Fixing What Can Be Fixed
by DavidB226Morris
Summary: It's been about six months since Home is Where The Heart Is ended. Jack Shephard has settled back into his new life at Seattle Grace, and many of the other survivors are starting to feel back to normal as well. But now, Jack is faced with a new mess of problems.
1. Prologue

Fixing What Can Be Fixed

A Lost-Grey's Anatomy Crossover (Yes, Again)

By DavidB226Morris

Summary: It's been about six months since Home is Where The Heart Is ended. Jack Shephard has settled back into his new life at Seattle Grace, and many of the other survivors are starting to feel back to normal as well. But now, Jack is faced with a new mess of problems. Fortunately, once you've dealt with foraging for food and dodging a smoke monster on a tropical island, a hospital bureaucracy is practically child's play. Right?

Disclaimer: Haven't we been through this before? Okay, for the record. Jack, Hurley, Kate, and just about everybody here connected with Oceanic 815 doesn't belong to me. They're the property of J.J. Abrams, Darlton, and just about everyone else at Bad Robot. (But they're happier here! Please, can I keep them?) Similarly, Derek Shepherd, Meredith, Christina, and the rest of Seattle Grace belong to The Dark One - I mean, Shonda Rhimes and the rest of the people at Shondaland. (I look at McDreamy and the others and say: "Come with me if you want to live.")

Author's Note: So, about a year ago I wrote my last words on Home is Where the Heart Is, and figured I was done. It was, unlike so many other stories I write, just going to be a one-shot. But then, I started rewatching _Lost_ again, and the plot bunnies came to me in my sleep. Some part of me must've thought: "You built a happy ending for just about all the survivors of Oceanic 815. Maybe you can do the same for some of the people in _Grey's Anatomy._ It'll be harder work, but its never stopped you before." So, much like the writers and cast of _Big Little Lies,_ I decided that there was another story to be told, and that, well, "I have to go _baack!"_

I feel I should write a few disclaimers. The survivors are not going back to the island. Jacob isn't going to pull them back in. The conflicts that everybody will face will be more every day, though no less challenge. Secondly, the story will take mostly within the boundaries of the fifth season of _Grey's Anatomy,_ which is where the series went off the rails, and not coincidentally, when I stopped watching the show. It's going to focus more on Jack and hospital business, but be patient, most of the people who survived Season 3 will be making appearances. There will be major revisions here, and what may seem like character bashing, but which, in reality, is actually bad storyline bashing.

That's all I have. Be gentle. And try to review as often as you did for my last story in this world.

 **PROLOGUE**

 **SANTA MONICA MINIMUM SECURITY**

Kate Austen had spent the better part of five years running from the law. She had been all over the country, had gone as far off as Melbourne, and had even spent four months on an island in the Pacific. Like any fugitive, she had never stayed at any place very long and had never put down deep roots anywhere. Even on the island, she had always been trying to rescued, when any other person would've counted their blessings. She had never been able to explain to anyone - not even Sawyer, who would've been likely to understand best - why she had needed to keep moving, particularly as all she ever seemed to do was come back. Hell, that was the whole reason the marshal's caught her in the first place.

Now, six months into her sentence, she honestly found herself wondering why she had fought it so damn much. After all, as prisons went, this wasn't a bad one.

Admittedly, it was one for 'high class' criminals - rich people who had been high on painkillers when they went through a stoplight and ran over old women, college kids who had been caught holding the bag when someone OD's on prescription drugs, madams who had catered in high level 'escort services'. And it was pretty clear that whoever designed this facility had modeled it after so much of Southern California's other architecture. There weren't even any bars on the windows or cells, rather each room was designed with Plexiglas doors that wouldn't break no matter how much force was put against them. This wasn't Oz. They were allowed to wear street clothes. The television in the main room was bigger than the ones than had been in most of Kate's motel rooms. The cafeteria served better cuisine that the ones then could be found in the diners her mother had worked at - there was an irony writ large. There were searches of their cells for contraband, but they seemed a lot more perfunctory than the ones that had been done when Kate had been in holding. She was allowed access to a cell phone for half an hour a day - she hadn't even _owned_ a cell phone until she had gotten back to civilization.

Perhaps the best thing about her time were the visiting hours. Every Thursday afternoon, people from her life would come to see her. And considering how close they had gotten over the last year, the people from Oceanic tended to come in packs.

Hurley, of course, was there every week, as did Jin and Sun, who had moved nearby after Ji Yeon had been born. They always came and talked about their lives, and how much they missed Kate.

Sayid and Nadia didn't come quite as often - given what Kate had learned about Nadia's time being held as a prisoner by the Republican Guard, it was understandable that she wouldn't want to be here - but they still came fairly frequently.

Ever since Claire had learned that she was Jack's half-sister, she and her mother moved to Seattle to be closer to their actual family along with their spiritual one. Claire came with Aaron every two weeks, like clockwork. It was clear she still had some residual guilt in her why Kate was in prison in the first place, no matter how many time Kate had told her that it wasn't her fault. She was still, however, very close to Kate and brought Aaron every time. She had even been there when Aaron had taken his first step.

Paradoxically, one of the people she had hoped to see the most came the least often. She knew that James was living with Juliet in Miami almost since they had gotten back to civilization. She also knew that, given his history, a prison, no matter how nice it looked inside and out, was still the last place that James Ford ever wanted to visit again. And considering that his actions were more directly related to her being caught than anybody among the Oceanics, it was understandable there was a very strong sense of residual guilt here. Still, the fact that James had only visited her four times in the six months she'd been in prison still hurt a little.

However, she couldn't argue that she was out of contact within him, because every week, almost religiously, Kate received a letter from him. Nor was this just a few lines scratched on paper - they were usually two to three pages, typed, single-spaced. In it, James opened up in ways that he had never done even on the island. He told her about what life had been like for him after his parents had died, how he had been bent on finding the man who killed him, and what he had done. He knew that prisons checked all incoming mail, so he coded his confessions as the 'new adventures of Tom Sawyer'. They were still pretty unsettling, even for a 'hardened criminal' like Kate. The unsavory characters he had dealt with in his cons - he saved special venom for a man called Hibbs - the con that had landed him in a Phoenix prison, the fact that he had a daughter named Clementine. For all the darkness in them, though, she had a feeling that she was still only scratching the surface - he had yet to get to the story as to why he had been in Australia in the first place.

That was the solemn stuff - the rest of the letters usually contained recommendations for reading material (not much of a shock; Sawyer had read some pretty heady literature when they were on the beach) and asking for comparisons about her 'jail' ("You never know what lies in the future, Freckles", he would say.), and quips about offers for book and movie deals that he was still getting. "I'll never have to do my old job again, thank God," he told her. "Not that I was ever very good at it."

But, of course, the part that made her look forward to visiting day was that every week, Jack would show up. He had to be one of the most recognized surgeons in the world now, but every week, he would clear his schedule, and come to Santa Monica. There were always at least four or five other people coming to see her, but everybody was more than willing to give her and Jack some alone time at beginning or end of each visit. And he was always smiling when he saw her - indeed, he tended to smile more in each visit than Kate had ever seen him do the entire three months plus they were on the island together. They knew that he was more relaxed in general, but he seemed genuinely at peace with himself in a way he had never been.

But even now, Kate was able to tell when something, however subtle, was troubling him. It had become pretty clear in this particular session about five months into her stay. It was a pretty crowded visit - Jin, Sun, Sayid and Hurley were all there - but as always, Kate had a pretty solid read that he was a little concerned about something.

Sayid, who had been pretty good at gauging Jack's mood on the island as well, was picking up on it too. "Something appears to be troubling you," he asked him about half an hour in.

Jack finally owned it - he was getting better at being called on his bullshit. "I'm sorry, I know how important this is, it's just -" he shrugged. "Stuff at home."

"Is Claire okay?" Sun asked quickly. They had all been a little concerned when she and Aaron hadn't shown up on the trip.

"Oh, God no," Jack quickly reassured her "Aaron had the croup, that's all. Not exactly conducive to a four-hundred mile train ride. No, it's just some stuff at work."

"Well, now you have to tell me." Kate said. "You tell me a five minute story from Seattle Grace, I own the gossip mill for a month."

There was a certain measure of truth in that. Apparently, when Jack had switched hospitals he had landed himself right in the middle of a damn soap opera. There was so much sex going on behind the scenes, and people swapped beds more often than they did surgeries, that it seemed like one of the stories that many of Kate's fellow inmates were watching on TV. At least one convict - a producer who had gotten caught in a coke sting - after she heard the stories for a month straight told Kate flat out that she'd give her a million dollar finder's fee for the rights. And she couldn't tell how serious she was.

Hurley was caught up in it, too. "Yeah. Have Addison and McSteamy gotten back together yet?"

Jack shook his head, still smiling. "You know, James would be ashamed of the lack of effort the residents put into nicknames." He gave a small sigh. "No, its nothing as important as that. Honestly, its stupid the things people at the hospital get worked up about."

"I like boring. After spending all that time, running around the jungle, boring is soothing." Kate said.

"All right, but you're gonna laugh." Jack shook his head. "Seattle Grace went from the third best hospital in the country to the twelfth best hospital in the country."

There was a long silence as everybody considered this trivia. Hurley, in typical fashion, reacted first. "Dude, do they still make the playoffs or do they have to hope for a wild card?"

Jack actually chuckled at that. "They take it seriously although, frankly, I don't know why. Seriously, we're in the middle of working a major trauma, and all anyone wants to talk about is the damn rankings from the AMA. I may have been the only doctor in the entire hospital who wasn't appalled or alarmed by this news, which, naturally made everybody believe something was wrong with _me_."

They all considered this for a moment. "You're not worried about your job, are you?" Sun asked.

"Any hospital in the world is still going to want to hire me, and even if they weren't, I still have enough money in the bank from the settlement so that I could just give up surgery altogether if I wanted, " Jack reminded them. "No, I just guess I still have perspective on this that I wouldn't have had. Before -" he waved his hand in the air "everything, if something had happened at St. Sebastian like this, I'd probably have gone into full-flown panic mode, trying to do something to help the hospital. I'd have acted like the worst possible thing that could've happened had happened."

"And now you know better." Sayid reminded him.

"Yeah, but I can't exactly tell everybody on staff to get on a plane and hope that it crashes." Jack replied. "And the thing of it is, some of them have been through similar trauma. Meredith Grey apparently held an active rocket in her hand, while someone was trying to defuse it for five hours. It detonated just five minutes after they were able to extract it. _Three months later,_ there was some kind of crash at the ferry, she got knocked into the water, and was _clinically dead_ for half an hour. Her boyfriend..."

"The other Dr. Shepherd?" Hurley asked. You really couldn't tell some of the players without a scorecard.

"Broke up with for a while because she seemed borderline suicidal. Of course, this being Seattle Grace, they were still hooking up for much of that time." Jack shook his head. "In retrospect, she'd probably have been dealing with the shit on the island then the rest of us did."

"So I'm guessing that when I got caught trying to see Claire..." Kate started.

"Was another day at the office for them." Jack looked at Hurley. "You told once my bedside manner sucked. Compared to some of the residents in this hospital, I'm Albert Schweitzer."

"They don't, like, rank you on how nice you treat your patients, do they?" Hurley asked.

"My guess is, that's not a factor. If it was, I'm pretty sure Seattle Grace would rank even lower. I may be exaggerating a bit, there are some interns and residents who treat their patients with compassion. They're considered the weak ones by the hospital." Jack blinked a couple of times. "I'm sorry, Kate, I didn't mean to turn the visit into something all about me."

"Believe me, Jack, this is a welcome distraction from everything else going on." Kate almost laughed. "Besides, who knows? Keep telling me these stories, and you could end up with your own network pilot in a couple years."

After the visit at Santa Monica was over, the rest of the people who had visited Kate's traditionally went to Hurley's place to have dinner. The mansion was generally big enough to hold all of them, Carmen Reyes was a good hostess, and some of the other people who didn't usually come would show up.

"Hey, Jack." Walt was looking a lot better these days. Hurley had essentially put him up in the mansion, while Michael was still serving his time, and he was still seeing a therapist every week. He seemed in a better place than he'd been in awhile, though he was still trying to get a handle on his 'gift'. "How's Kate doing?" Walt was still having trouble with confined spaces, and visited Kate the least of the group.

"Pretty good." Jack told him. "At least, as good as anyone in that situation probably could be."

Walt stared at him for a moment. "Have you asked her yet?"

Jack looked at the young boy. Even knowing what he did, it was still uncanny how quickly Walt could pick up on these things. "The two of us have an understanding." he told him. "The day she gets out, we are going over to the nearest church, and I'm putting the ring on her finger. She wants to have something to look forward to."

"Hurley's going to want to perform a big wedding."

"Hurley's not the one getting married." Jack paused. "Besides, the first time I got married, I really, really rushed things, and a result, it was pretty much doomed before it began. I don't want history to repeat itself."

"I get it." Walt told him. It was only then that Jack realized that he had just told the story of his first marriage to a twelve-year old. Then again, given everything he had been through, Walt probably deserved to be treated like an adult. It's not like Jack had done such a bang up job when they had been on the island together.

"How have you been doing?" Jack immediately felt like an idiot. He had asked the exact same question of Walt a week ago. So much for his bedside manner improving.

"Better, actually. I only dreamed about the island once." Walt was generally a lot cheerier these days.

"That's better than I do," Jack admitted. "I'm glad you're doing better. I truly am."

"Hurley's a big help. And I see everybody else pretty often. I'm going to be starting school again in a couple weeks. I'm actually looking forward to it."

Jack had been dancing around the last part of their time together for a little while. Even knowing everything that Juliet and Walt himself had told him, he was still reluctant to believe that the kid really was 'special.' It didn't seem like it much of the time, but he was still a bit wary of him.

He wasn't sure why he decided to ask him - maybe to put Walt at ease, maybe to test his curiosity - but he decided to ask him directly. "Have you had any of those dreams about us?" he finally asked.

"You know they're not dreams." Walt spoke so casually about something so strange.

"You know who I was," Jack pointed out. "You know I have trouble dealing with this stuff."

Walt nodded. "Go ahead and ask what you want to ask. You know I'm not going to hurt you."

Jack hesitated again. "There's been a lot of chaos at the hospital. Programs are being cut, last week the place flooded, its been getting messy."

"You'll be fine." Walt said quickly.

He was a little surprised the answer came back that quickly. "Things are going to be okay?" Jack asked.

"Oh, no. Seattle Grace is going to be in a messy place for awhile. But you, you'll be fine." Walt got up. "Come on. It's time to eat."

Walt didn't mention their encounter again for the next few months. But considering the hell that was going to rain down at the hospital, Jack had many times to remember that remark.

Had he ever had a chance to think about Locke - a man he had almost completely managed to forget over the past year - he might have done well to remember a remark that he had made to him once about Walt.

Of course, he couldn't have known that had to do with something far more important. Walt didn't picture events in his head that had already happened.

He caused them to happen.


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

Addison was in a mood. Unlike most of the other times since she'd come to Seattle, this one had a reason. It had now been two years since she had decided, for reasons that had seemed logical at the time, not to have the child she had conceived with Mark in the middle of their affair.

She still didn't know why she had done it. After more than a decade of helping bring life into the world, when she had the chance to do the same thing for herself, she had opted out. Had it been residual guilt about the affair? Had she really thought that she and Derek could've worked things out, even though by that time, Derek was in Round 1 of his relationship with Meredith? Was it because she didn't think Mark would be a good father? There had to have been a reason, and for the last two years, she'd been trying to figure out what it was.

Just then Jack resurfaced in the pit. He looked cheerful, as he tended to be on Thursdays, even considering he was about to do an eighteen hour shift.

Ever since he'd arrived at Seattle Grace, Addison had nursed a secret crush on him. And unlike so many of the sexual encounters she'd had since she'd come to Seattle, it actually seemed like he was a possibility. Unlike her husband, he wasn't obsessed with another woman. Unlike Mark, he didn't have their previous baggage, and was basically a monk in this hospital. Unlike Karev, he wasn't an intern. And he was a genuinely nice man, though he'd seemed even more traumatized than everybody else at the hospital..

Then she, like everybody else in Seattle, had learned who Jack Shephard had been. The shock factor at Seattle Grace had been, compared to the rest of the world, relatively minimal. If anything, he actually went up in everyone's stature, because he hadn't bothered to brag about everything he'd done or had been through. Modesty was non-existence among surgeons, particularly _these_ surgeons. He'd been willing to confide in more people, particularly Torres and O'Malley. And he'd actually had drinks a couple of times with Addison - and they had gotten comfortable to the point, where _he_ had actually joked that this was far better than the last date that he'd been on.

Then had come Carole Littleton's surgery, and everything connected with it - the revelation that he was Claire's half-brother, the reappearance and subsequent arrest of Kate Austen, and all of the subsequent fallout. Then she had realized that the man she'd had a crush on, like Derek, was in love with another woman. And that, like her ex-husband, he was permanently unavailable.

In his defense - and Jack had been very sincere about everything - he had been honest about Kate in several of their talks before. He had genuinely had his heart stomped on - that was why he had moved to Seattle in the first place - and he had never thought that he would see her again. They had never gotten out of the friend zone, despite Addison's fondest wish, and he had since come to the conclusion that Kate really was the woman for him, and that he wasn't going to run from it any more, no matter how dark things got. And how could Addison argue with any of that? She hadn't even risen to the status of 'other woman' in this relationship. She'd just done her best to avoid him. Jack had made more of an effort, but she didn't try nearly as hard.

Now, for the first time in a long time, she realized how rude she was. Jack had always been a good listener, despite his own jokes about his poor bedside manner. And given his own spectacular failure at marriage before, maybe he could give some advice about her problems.

"Doctor," she said, walking up to him. "I wouldn't think visiting a prison would bring such a warm glow to a person's face before I met you."

"I always have to do a double shift when I come back," he told her, "but it's worth it. Always will be."

"Like they say. The good ones are either taken or married."

"Really?" Jack raised an eyebrow. "Ever since I came here, I thought the rule was: 'If someone you like is in a relationship, just wait a couple days.'"

Addison couldn't help but laugh at this. There was a certain 'musical beds' element to Seattle Grace, and she had been a very active participant as much as anyone else. "Except when it comes to my ex-husband."

"I heard." Jack said. "Are you rooting for them or against them?"

"Believe me, I've moved on from that." Her grin faded. "Unfortunately, I may have waited too long to move on."

"This isn't about Karev, is it?" The newest gossip was that Alex and Isobel had finally gotten back together after months of agonizing.

"It's more than that." She was reluctant to tell Jack this - he had a reputation for being fairly judgmental around the hospital - but he'd always been easy to talk to in the past.

So she told him about the child that she'd had with Mark, and then chosen to get rid of. The fact that she wanted to be a mother, but that a visit to her best friend - who ironically lived in LA - had told her that she had missed her opportunity to ever be pregnant. How it seems that she was destined to spend the rest of her life alone, and that given everything that she had done in the past few years, she was beginning to think she deserved it.

Jack took this all in for a minute. "How long has this been troubling you?" he asked.

"At least a year," she admitted. "And I'd appreciate it if you didn't tell Derek or Karev or, well, anybody. Last thing any of them need is for to become public knowledge."

"Frankly, I'm impressed you've managed to keep it secret this long, particularly in this fishbowl," he told her. "But I'm glad you told me."

"You're not going to offer to father my child, are you?" Addison joked.

"No," he told her. "But I know someone who might be able to help."

Ever since they had come back to civilization, the biggest problem with the survivors, other than Walt and Michael, had been handling Juliet. Everyone in the world knew the passenger manifest, and they would've known that Juliet Burke had not been on the plane.

This had been perfectly fine as far as Juliet was concerned. The only people who had known about Mittelos Bioscience had been Rachel. Their parents had passed away fairly young - their father in a car crash five years before Richard Alpert coming to see her, her mother seven years earlier, dying from the same kind of breast cancer that would nearly take Rachel. She hadn't had many friends in Miami before that - Edmund had been responsible for that - so the only person who had noticed that she had disappeared was Rachel.

Juliet had arranged with Penny to get a flight back to Miami four days after they were rescued. When she found her sister, they had embraced for nearly half an hour. Juliet promptly told her everything that had happened - how Mittelos was really a cover story for Ben Linus and the island, how her fertility research had been useless in preventing the deaths of pregnant woman, how he had kept her prisoner by telling her that Rachel's cancer had recurred, and that it would be cured, how she had been used like a chess-piece, how Oceanic 815 had crashed on the island four months earlier, and that everything that she had seen on the news was a lie. She even told the parts she was ashamed of - her affair with Goodwin, her part in the kidnapping of Walt, her keeping people prisoner.

Rachel took all this, and then had told her what had happened on her end. How she had waited six months, and then that Dr. Alpert had resurfaced, and told her that they had extended Juliet's initial contract. How he refused to share any communications between the sisters, or even tell her where she was.. How Alpert would return every six months then, offer temporary reassurance, and give variations of the same story. How Rachel had hired three separate private investigators to try and find her sister, and than two of them would never come back. The only information she had been able to find was that there was no Richard Alpert with the AMA.

And of course the cancer had never come back. This did not come as a complete shock to Juliet, either; considering all of the manipulation that Ben had been capable of for the three years she had known him, why should she have been shocked that he could doctor a medical chart? Not for the first time, she wished that she had let Jack kill Ben on the operating table.

"Is there any chance he's going to come after you?" Rachel had asked.

"He's got a whole new set of problems to deal with." Juliet had assured her sister. She didn't add that if she ever saw Ben in any form she was going to put a bullet in his brain.

Considering all of the horrors that had unfolded - particularly in the last month - Juliet was surprised how quickly it took for her life to get back to normal. She managed to get her medical license renewed back at the AMA, but didn't have the appetite to go back into research. She decided to go back to obstetrics, and get used to giving people good news again.

The Oceanics then began to process of reaching out to her, in dribs and drabs. She wasn't shocked that Hurley and Jack had made the effort at first, but considering everything they had put each other through, she had been stunned when James had shown up in Miami about a month after the Oceanics had made their historic return to civilization. She had a feeling it had something to do with the bench warrant being put out for Kate less than two months after they returned to civilization, but given what she knew about 'Sawyer', she'd have bet money that he would have run with her - the Oceanic equivalent of Bonnie & Clyde. The fact that he had chosen not to spoke volumes.

Slowly, over the weeks and months, they began to fall into a relationship. No one seemed more surprised about this than James himself - he'd figured that Juliet had read his file, and knew all his tricks. She had, and considering her disastrous history with me, James should have been the man to avoid at all costs. Yet over time, they grew more comfortable with each other, and he shared with her details that he'd never told anyone - even about his illegitimate daughter, the reason he'd been in Australia, and what Locke had tricked him into doing just days before the rescue.

The last year, both had gotten adjusted to life with each other. They saw the rest of the Oceanics fairly frequently - they made a trip out west every few weeks, and they were gather at Hurley's mansion for a celebration of sorts. Given that she had been 'an other', Juliet was surprised at how willingly the rest of the group had been willing to embrace her, but all of the stress that had been on the island was pretty much gone, now they were back in civilization.

James and Juliet had fallen into a routine of their own. Rachel had been willing to accept him, and he'd been pretty good to Julian as well. (It had been particularly surprising how good 'Sawyer' was with children; he'd also been fairly comfortable among Aaron and Ji Yeon.) Juliet had a pretty regular routine at the hospital, and James, strangest of all, had started writing a book. Not a biography. He was doing a YA series that sort of had to do with a group of teenagers on a cruise after graduating, who get shipwrecked on a mysterious island.

"What the hell," he had told everybody. "It can't be as bad as that stupid series about the flat girl and the sparking vampires."

Hurley had set him up with a publisher, and he just managed to complete the first draft. The editors were very enthusiastic, saying that James had 'a hell of imagination'. "You have no idea," he'd told them.

When Juliet came home that night, a little perplexed about the call she'd gotten that day, the first thing she did after kissing James was tell him about it.

"Did we meet his doctor when we were at the Doc's hospital?" he asked.

It was a good question. "I don't think so," Juliet told him "But the surgical staff was selected only for this procedure. And when you're in neonatology, there's only so much spare time you get."

James, who'd heard much of the same gossip that Jack told everybody else about the mating habits of Seattle Grace, figured out the more pressing question. "Who was she sleeping with?"

Under any other circumstances, if for nothing else than professional courtesy, Juliet would have told James to mind his own business. But she'd heard the same gossip, too, and frankly, considered the level of sexual activity simultaneously appalling and tantalizing. "All I know for sure is that she used to be married to Derek Shepherd."

"The brain doctor who hooked up with his intern the first night were there." James was very good at following intricately plotted stories. "She chased him across the country because she slept with his best friend."

"Yeah," Juliet said. "And a few months after that, his best friend chased her across the country."

"And now, they're all working at the same hospital." James shook his head. "You don't think someone from their med school is going to show up in a month or so, dragging a teenager who happens to be McSteamy's love child from med school?"

Juliet actually laughed at this. "I can't say that its not impossible, but that's the kind of thing that not even a second rate telenovela would try to pull."

James gave the smile that had no doubt gotten dozens of women into his bed. Hell, it had worked for her... eventually. "So, what's the process here? She's gonna look up your background? Check and see if your research will fit her needs?"

"That's the way it works.." Juliet shook her head. "And that may lead to a couple of problems."

"Like why a top fertility researcher completely fell off the grid for three years." James put it together. "What exactly did Jack say he told this doctor?"

"He said that I was a top fertility specialist in the country for quite awhile. That he worked with me rather closely a couple of years back. That he thought I was one of the best at what I did."

"Damn, Doc's got a lot better at hedging the truth," James said, almost in admiration. "And how exactly does he get around the island in the room?"

It was something of a valid question. Juliet had enough of a reputation to get a job at a fairly high-profile Miami hospital, but it had taken a lot of tough questions about where she had been the last three years for her to get employed at half the salary she could've gotten before she had left for Mittelos. The gap on her resume wasn't a problem with her patients, but it was going to be something of an obstacle if someone decided to look hard enough. Addison Montgomery was going to, even with Jack vouching for her. When it came to having a child, a woman wanted to be sure of everything she could control. Juliet knew that very well.

"He knew this could cause some headaches," she admitted. "And under normal circumstances, he wouldn't have floated my name. But he respects he and the work that she does, and he really thinks I can help her. Besides, he says this is an opportunity to give good news."

James considered this. "So when this neonatal surgeon makes her decision, she's gonna fly all the way across the country to see you."

"That's traditionally how it works, James. The days when doctors made house calls are long gone, especially when they're this far away."

James considered this for a few moments. "Let me know how this plays out, by the way," he told her. "I'm just curious to know if there's any more gossip from the sex cauldron that is Seattle Grace."

"There is such a thing as doctor-patient confidentiality," Juliet playfully reminded him.

"Not when the people I'm interested in aren't patients." he reminded her. He decided to change the subject. "When do you think you can arrange the next trip out west?"

"I did some clearing of my schedule. We should be able to get out there next Thursday."

Ever since Kate had ended up back in prison, things were only marginally less awkward between the three of them then they had been on the island. James had clearly made his choice. So had Jack and Kate. None of them had a problem with it, despite all of the sturm und drang that had led up to Kate's arrest and imprisonment. It was the how she had ended up there that everybody was still feeling a little raw about. Juliet, in particular, felt a fair amount of guilt about it herself, maybe even more than Jack, who blamed himself for everything. The fact that Kate had said on their first visit out there that she was fine with how things had turned out didn't make Juliet feel any less guilty. She'd only gone to visit Kate once since she'd begun serving her sentence. It was the one part of the Oceanics rituals that Juliet had never taken part in, despite the fact that none of the other survivors blamed her.

"I found a couple of films that I figured Walt might find interesting." James seemed a little more nervous then usual. "I think it's time I had that talk with him."

Sawyer had never been a man who felt much guilt or, for that matter, empathy with anybody. But it was clear that James Ford had come back from the island with a new appreciation of humanity. In addition to everything else he had done since coming back, he had begun to form a friendship with Walt, or as he considered it, building a bond with the young man he'd tried to escape the island with. He had written to him constantly, shown him drafts of his book, and constantly recommended films and novels, some of which he had read on the island.

Despite all that, Juliet had the feeling that there was something he felt residual guilt over, something that he still hadn't been able to tell Walt, even after all this time. She hadn't pried then, and she wasn't going to start now.

"I just want to remind you whatever you're going to say to him, he's probably going to know before you tell him," Juliet said.

"Yeah, and the old me would probably have just let him take my hand, and see it." James admitted. "But if our time on the island taught me anything, its that when you need to say something about your past, you need to come out and _say_ it."

"You're going to draw a line about the secrets everybody kept?" Juliet couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at that. Even after all this time, it had still astonished Juliet that she had known more about the castaways after one week than they told each other that entire time on the island. Granted they'd had access to some incredibly high-tech satellites, but still...

James shrugged. "I know, pot calling the kettle black, but still, we should've made an effort. Which is why I'm going to tell him now. No more crapping around."

"I have to say, James, I never thought I'd ever hear you say that."

"Look at me. I'm evolving." He turned around. "You know, next time you should probably invite Rachel and Julian to come with us."

It took a considerable effort for Juliet to keep her jaw from hitting the floor. "You sure they'd be okay."

"Why not? Your sister already knows everything that happened on the island, so its not like we'd have to lie to her. She deserves to meet your godchild. And hell, Julian would probably love to play with some kids his own age. Hell, maybe we can start a playgroup."

Juliet had thought along similar lines for the last couple of months. Despite the fact that Julian loved 'Uncle Sawyer' (as he insisted on calling him), she had been reluctant to bring any other link from her old life over to her new one. Maybe there was a part of her that felt so much of her time on the island had felt like Alcatraz rather than a paradise, she didn't want her family to get stained by it. But another part of her realized that much of the Oceanic group did consider her part of their family. And that it was time to let them in.

"I'll tell her about it when we see her tonight," she told him. The group had family dinners every other day. Tonight Rachel was cooking.

"Good. Something to discuss over the burnt dinner rolls."

Juliet rolled her eyes. "She did it _one time._ Can't you let that go?"

"The Carlson sisters are impressive women in almost every way," James said impishly. "Beating cancer, impregnating male mice, holding guns on fugitives in tropical island. But asked them to handle simple baking, and they set off smoke detectors." He looked her. "How did you get electrical appliances on a tropical island, anyway?'

"What can I tell you?" Juliet said just as impishly. "I guess Amazon delivers everywhere."


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Jack had known that he was risking a lot by introducing Juliet to Addison. He knew that she'd managed to do a decent job of covering the island-sized gap in her resume, but Addison was too smart a doctor not to ask any follow-up questions when it came to this subject. He wasn't concerned so much about this leading to problems in the Oceanics as he was it hurting Juliet - considering all the problems she'd had _on_ the island, she didn't need them following her here.

But after awhile, it seemed that particular obstacle had been overcome - a few days later, Addison thanked him for the introduction, and said that she was going to follow up. She said that she would visit Dr. Burke in about a week, and they would see what happened.

Jack might have been concerned about the follow-up, but over the next few days a series of incidents began that would be a huge problem, not for him, but for the entire hospital.

The first problem came with the hiring of a new trauma surgeon named Owen Hunt. From the start, he managed to get on everybody's bad side. He brought a group of pigs in the hospital, cut their throats, and told the interns and a couple of the residents to save their lives. Stevens got royally pissed at him for torturing animals, and Jack wasn't particularly wild about that either - this was not the ideal to train surgeons. Hours later when the interns saved the pigs, he promptly ordered Lexie to euthanize them, which left her with a bad taste in her mouth.

Then he managed to take over the ER when dealing with a patient that Derek and Sloan were trying to save. There had been another confrontation a few hours after that, and thought Jack didn't get details, he was amazed Hunt was still in one piece.

Jack had been called down for an operation in between all this, and Hunt had gotten in his face personally. He had to count to eight, before he very calmly told Hunt that right now, he was trying to make sure a fifty-three year man would walk again, and he would more to willing to surrender - if his middle name was Lazarus. For a second, he had thought Hunt was going to put up a fight. But for some reason, he just walked away. Jack was too busy trying to keep the man alive to give much of a damn, and seven hours he went home to crash rather than put up an argument.

A couple of days after that, he was approached by Erica Hahn, who despite they're getting hired at about the same time, he had only worked with half a dozen times in the past year. He had a feeling this wasn't just about him - the only person Hahn seemed to have bonded with any sense was Callie, and he'd heard gossip that they were sleeping together. Like everything else in Seattle Grace, he took the rumors with a grain of salt - within a month after arriving, they'd said that _he_ and Hahn were sleeping together.

"I need to talk to you about something. Kind of important." Hahn said in her typically brusque matter.

"If it's about Hunt, I'm not going to make any judgments about the guy for another couple of weeks," Jack told her. "You and I both know how hard is it to be the new attending at this hospital."

Hahn actually gave a small smile at this. "The guy's a pain in the ass, but that's hardly a reason for me to have qualms about him," she told him. "But actually, that's not what I wanted to talk about."

Then she told them that she really didn't get along with most of her patients -except for one. His name was Fred Stoller, and he'd been on the transplant list for three and a half years. He'd come close to getting a heart a couple of times over the years, but the closest he'd come had been nearly two years ago. She'd gotten into a fight with her predecessor, Preston Burke, who'd had another patient in similarly dire straits. Her guy had actually been ahead of his on the transplant list, and he was going to get the heart.

Then, in the space of an hour, two things had happened: Burke had gotten shot, and his patient had coded. In an irony of ironies, she'd had to perform the transplant for Burke's guy that night. And then, less than twenty-four hours later, the patient had died.

Jack had a sinking feeling what this might be about, but he wanted to hear Dr. Hahn say the words.

She did. "Did you know that Stevens' cut Denny Duquette's L-VAT so that he would get the heart?"

Jack considered lying or just saying he hadn't known. But Hahn had always seemed to appreciate blunt honesty. "I heard about it through some gossip about a month after I got here. I assumed you heard the same story."

Hahn took a deep breath. "I spend a year at this hospital trying to ignore the rumor mill, and this is what happens."

"What are you going to do? Go to Webber?"

"I already did. Not only has he known, he had no problem let Stevens work with me on this _goddamn case!"_ Hahn was angry, which was hard enough to handle, considering that Jack hadn't seen her lose her cool detachment even once the year they'd been working together. "The man hired me, and he clearly had no respect for me or the work I do."

Jack didn't even try to assuage her. This was another one of those things that made him wonder what the hell kind of medicine Seattle Grace practiced. Any other hospital in the country, Stevens would've been drop-kicked out of her residency, and heavy suspensions would've been imposed on just about everybody who had been involved Duqette's treatment. The fact that Stevens had supposedly been in love with Denny didn't negate anything, hell, someone should've been monitoring her to keep her away from Duqette. And yet here the hospital was, nearly eighteen months later, and they hadn't even bothered to tell the surgeon who this had affected most.

"So I ask again. What are you going to do?"

"I think I have to go to the AMA. I have to have them take Seattle Grace of the transplant list altogether. Then I have to tell my patient, and tell him that he has grounds for a massive malpractice suit against this hospital. Not that it'll do him much good, because my guess is, without a transplant, he's going to be dead before that case goes to trial." Hahn looked at him. "And then, I think I have to resign."

Jack considered this for a few moments. This was a very clear case of right and wrong. There was a clear cut case of negligence here, and as a result one man was dead, and another was very close to dying. The hospital was clearly liable, and something had to be done. In principal, he agreed completely with Hahn. This was the ethical thing to do. And yet... "Have you considered all of the consequences?"

"This hospital will probably fall off the transplant list. A lot of people here are probably going to get fired, maybe even face jail time." Hahn told him. "It's a shame for some of the other doctors, I know, but..."

"That's not what I meant." Jack turned away. "Three years ago, when I was still working at St. Sebastian, I got a page from the nurse that the chief of surgery had been called into a major trauma, and she had seen his hands shaking. This surgeon had a serious drinking problem, and I had told her to page him if something like this happened. I rushed into the operating room, but the patient coded, and she never made it off the table."

This was the first real time that he had dealt with this, and he almost had lost track of Hahn. "Because of the chief surgeon's seniority, everyone was inclined to believe that nothing could've been done. I was going to go before the M and M conference and tell the truth, but he persuaded me otherwise. Then I saw him consoling the patient's husband. And I told the board everything."

Hahn clearly was baffled by this. "So you did the right thing."

"The chief surgeon was my father," Jack was almost casual about it. "He'd told me that the hospital was basically his life, and that he couldn't function without it. When I told the board, he lost his license to practice, and he crawled into a bottle. He went to Sydney and drank himself to death. That's why I was on the plane. To get him."

If nothing else, this revelation clearly punctured Erica's reserve. "God, Jack, I had no idea."

"A lot of my life is public knowledge. I try to keep the stuff about my father close to the vest." He turned back to Erica. "There are going to be repercussions beyond the professional ones."

"Are you talking about Richard?" she said slowly. "I know he's been in recovery, but I figured he was fine."

"You know about the joke about the difference between a drunk and an alcoholic. Drunks don't have to go to those stupid meetings." Now was not the time to bring how he'd wrecked his father's best chance at sobriety. "Richard has been doing a fine job. No one can argue that. But speaking from personal experience, it doesn't take a lot to slip. Holding together the hospital the last few weeks has been a huge toll on him. Board finds about this, there's no way that he doesn't get fired. "

"He wanted to retire last year. He was willing to hire Burke to replace him."

Jack hadn't been aware of this. "He's still here, isn't he? Besides, you know Richard, he's nowhere near ready to just home with his wife. But what do I know, he's been sober for what, ten years, maybe he is strong enough. What I do know is that right now, Seattle Grace isn't. You do something like this, they may shut the whole damn place down. Everybody here loses their jobs. The chief surgeons, Derek, Addison, Mark, probably me, we probably get hired anywhere. Resident, nurses, EMTs, they're not going to be as lucky."

Hahn was clearly wavering, but it was clear she could still go either way.

"And then there's you." Erica looked at him. "Hey, I'm not going to say anything, but when I sold my father out, I was practically a pariah at St. Sebastian. Granted, there were different circumstances involved, but I was not held in high esteem. You do this, and it's going to get out. There's not exactly going to be a bidding war on a cardiac surgeon who's willing to torch the last hospital she worked at, no matter how brilliant she is. And that's without considering how ungrateful you'll seem for doing this to the man who went out of his way to hire you."

Erica was silent for a long time. "My guy may die. However you want to put its wrong."

"No question. And there's no reason you can't tell him. Tell him to get a lawyer, and believe, he can figure out the rest. There's no reason you personally have to be connected with him.." Jack told him. "But you and I have been at hospitals long enough to know that just because you sue doesn't mean the truth becomes public."

Erica considered for a few moments. "I'll consider it," she said. "I have to consider what's best for my patient, after all. But regardless of what I choose to do privately, I don't think I can work here any more."

"I wouldn't think so," Jack said gently. "But - I know this is a stupid question - what about you and Torres?"

Erica shook her head. "Three days ago, I told her I loved her. I've never said I love you to anybody in fifteen years of relationships. Her reaction was to sleep with Sloan. And then, tell me about it."

"Jesus," Jack said. "I am really sorry."

"This was the first time either one of us had been with a woman. If we were still in college, I guess they'd say it was our experimental phase. I guess I should have kept thinking it was that."

"Or known better than to get into a relationship in this hospital at all," Jack told her sadly. "In a place this sex-crazed, I don't think anybody wants to commit at all."

Erica actually laughed at this. "It is pretty bad."

"I was stranded on an island in the Pacific for three months. There wasn't anywhere near this level of hooking up there. " Jack turned serious. "I'm not good at comforting people, but this really sucks."

"On the other hand, it means I can quit with a clear conscience." Erica turned to Jack. "I'm sorry I didn't get to know you better. You've offered me better advice in ten minutes then most people at this hospital have in a year. I know that most people don't like me. That's okay, I don't like most people. But thank you for this."

She shook his hand, and walked away. Jack didn't see her again for a long time, but he hoped he had managed to help the hospital avoid a lot of trouble.

He didn't know what was coming just a week down the line.

"Where exactly did you _find_ that?" Hurley asked James.

"An online auction in England." James said. "Didn't cost that much, as DVDs go, but I was kinda shocked I could find an American version."

"You do know I'm kind of old for cartoons," Walt pointed out.

"Actually, think you're just the right age for this one." He showed the box to the young man "I didn't think they _had_ a PG-13 rating back then."

"But you really saw this when you were twelve?"

"Must've." James shook his head. "Little history lesson for you, young Padawan. Back when me and Hugo were growing up, Disney was in pretty bad shape. Pixar wasn't even a gleam in the eye, and they were starting to run out of the stories to animate."

"Yeah. I remember going to that _Black Cauldron_ movie when I was twelve. Didn't make any sense and it was any fun." Hurley shook his head. "Pretty sure it never made it to DVD either."

"Lot of animated studios tried to fill the gap, and it was mostly hit and miss." James looked at Walt. "Did you there was actually a Lord of the Rings cartoon before Peter Jackson managed it."

"No, but it makes sense. " Walt told him. "Back then, probably the only way to show that kind of thing was animation."

"Yeah, I went to see it when I was fourteen. That's was a ballsup too. Two hours and ten minutes, and I couldn't figure out what the hell was going on. And there were songs too. That's not the kind of movie that needs musical accompaniment."

"But you're sure this movie's better." Hurley actually seemed more concerned about this then Walt was.

"If it's like it was when I saw it, yeah," James told him. "Scared the hell out of me when I was eleven. Didn't realize til I read the book when I was on the island that was the idea.

Ever since Walt had moved to LA after his father had been 'exiled', half of Oceanic seemed determined to be surrogate parents to him. Hurley, who'd always gotten along well with him, had put him and his grandmother up in the mansion. He would play backgammon with him every couple of days, had helped him get back into a routine with his education, and was basically trying to get him acclimated to America, a country that Walt had lived in, at most, for six months when he had been growing up.

Jin and Sun were still busy raising Ji Yeon, but the two of them had had a special relationship with Walt at various times on the island, and had no trouble having him over a couple times a week, in addition to the dinners.

Paradoxically, the man who now had one of the closest relationships with Walt, was the man who'd gone out of his way to avoid him for much of their time on the island. Until their time on the raft, James barely talked with Walt, and he hadn't had much time to do any more even after they'd come back. But in the last few months, James had made an effort to get along with Walt then he had before. The explanation he'd given Hurley and the others was that he knew better then almost anyone on the island what it was like to have both your parents out of the picture. It wasn't nearly as extreme a case for Walt as it had been for Sawyer, but everyone, with the exception of Juliet, had taken it at face value.

He'd been fairly active the last few months, showing Walt drafts of the book he was working on, asking him from his personal reading experience if there was stuff he should avoid. He'd given Walt books to read, some of which he had read on the island. And every visit, he would show with a movie he said Walt had to see to 'expand his horizons'.

But there was clearly something else going on. Sawyer hadn't been the kind of man who felt guilt about anything, but James Ford clearly felt the need to atone. He'd been trying to do that for a lot of people since he'd come back to the island, and was now wealthy and had an extended circle of friends. Now, he figured it was time to make whatever restitution he could here and now.

"Hugo, I need a moment to talk with the kid here," he said slowly. "Could you give us a few minutes?"

It was a testament how much their relationship had changed that Sawyer would ask Hurley's permission for something. He didn't even bother to come up with a nickname, which had to tendency to be more playful than offensive these days. "Sure thing, dude. I'll go get the popcorn," he said before leaving the room.

James sat down so he was eye level with Walt. "If you are as special as everybody on the island seemed to think you were," he began slowly, "you'd probably already know what I want to talk to you about. And even if you weren't , you still might. You always a sharp kid."

Walt's glance wasn't as intense as it could be. "I have an idea," he told him. "But I also know how important it is to let people say what they need to say. So go ahead."

James took a deep breath. "I'm sorry for what happened on the raft that night. If I hadn't made Mike fire that flare, maybe the Others never would've found us. Maybe there'd still have been chance for us to rescued."

"You know they were tracking us," Walt told him. "If they hadn't found us then, it would've happened a little later. They wanted me. And they would've killed all of you in order to get me."

"I know that. It's just..." For the first time in a very long time, James was at a loss for words. "Your dad, he blamed me for what happened. And the truth is, I didn't help much."

"You tried to shoot the men who took me." Walt reminded him. "They blew up the raft." He shook his head. "It's my fault that it happened."

James wasn't sure, even given all the shit that had happened on the island, that he understood. "You just said they were coming to get you. Hell, they knew how to find us."

"When I was on the island, if I thought about something, it happened. " Walt looked at James with that too-adult stare that he'd had so much of the time. "All I had to do was picture something happening to the boat. Their guns not firing, their boat blowing up, if I'd just been able to think about it, I think I could've stopped them."

Even given everything that he knew about Walt, this still seemed pretty damn implausible. It didn't make any sense about what had happened before then - if Walt had wanted to be rescued, why hadn't he just imagined an airplane flying over head? Hell, why hadn't he done any time they were on the island? "So why didn't you?"

"I was afraid. " Walt told him simply. "I knew that there was something terrible on that island. Something that they wanted to use me for. That's why I was so desperate to leave. And the moment that guy said he'd come for me, I knew that there was no point in trying to get away. They wanted me, and they were going to get me."

He turned that adult glance at James. "Have you ever been afraid like that?"

James actually thought about for a moment. "No," he finally said. "But that's because a lot more of the time, I'm angry. I think that I've been pissed off almost all my life. You probably would have been able to tell that, even if it you weren't, you know, special."

"It was pretty obvious." Walt admitted.

"The guy on the raft, the one who took you," Now James fixed Walt with a glance. "Before we got rescued, I shot him. The last thing he heard before he died was that it was for taking you." He held up a hand. "It really wasn't. I wanted revenge for his trying to kill me. He'd already surrendered, I didn't have to do it, but I did."

"Why are you telling me this?" Walt asked.

"I want you to forgive your dad." James told him. "He's not the only one on that island who did something horrible in your name. And he, at least, had a reason. Guilt eats you up inside. Not nearly as much as anger can, but its pretty damn close."

Walt considered this. "Before we got on the plane, I told him that he wasn't my dad. I guess I was angry, too. I'd been moving all my life, and now, the guy who raised me, handed me off to this man I'd never met before. I felt like I was being abandoned by everybody. I guess that's why I wanted to stay on the island so much. I didn't want to have to move again."

"And now?"

"Now, I just miss my dad. Don't get me wrong, you guys are great, it's just...

James held his hand up. "I know. Losing your parents, its a lot to deal with. " He actually managed to smile. "Look on the bright side. It's only another year, and he'll be back in your life for good. There'll be time to build things up again. And in the meantime, you got me and the others, and Hugo, who has been listening behind the door for the last three minutes."

Hurley then emerged with a sheepish grin, holding the popcorn and candy. "I didn't mean, it's just, like the popcorn was done early, and..."

"It's alright," Walt told him. "I think me and Sawyer were done."

"We were," James said. "And though this conversation wasn't nearly as important as all the ones we were having on the island, could you, like, try to keep it secret for a little longer than usual?"

"Dude, its fine," Hurley assured them. "I'll be quiet. Now, can we see _Watership Down?_ "

"That's the whole reason I bought it," James told them. "And just so you know, Walt, there's a reason Disney wouldn't have touched this book with a ten-foot pole."

"Why?" Walt asked.

"There's blood in it. Not horror movie level, but I know for damn sure, no Disney villain even got a scrape."

"Seriously?" Walt asked. "Cool."


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

For all the craziness that involved the sex lives of the staff, Jack had been astonished - flabbergasted, frankly - that it had not managed to spread the surgical procedures themselves. If anything, Seattle Grace remained at the cutting edge when it came to pure medicine.

Just in the year that he had been on the staff, Derek and Meredith had done a clinical trial on patients suffering from extreme brain tumors that now seemed destined to put them in the annals of medicine. Miranda Bailey had managed a domino kidney transplant procedure that had involved eight different patients that had gone off with no fatalities. Before she had departed the hospital, Hahn and Bailey had collaborated on a procedure that, in order to remove a tumor that had basically snarled around a teenagers immune system, by basically removing, for a short time, half the vital organs in the patient's body. The patient was now in recovery. And all of this didn't bother to take into account the procedure Derek had done on Carole Littleton, which had unfolded with its own level of chaos.

Frankly, Jack had assumed that the major drop from third to twelfth had to be some kind of statistical aberration. If anything, given all the bed-hopping, he figured that should've been enough to put them in at Number 1.

And then, in literally the space of a few hours, Jack saw the absolute worst of this hospital. And he began to wonder what else he had been overlooking.

It started on one of the rare night shifts that Weber wasn't in the hospital. Addison was in Miami, about to begin the first of her meetings with Juliet. They still were looking for a replacement for Hahn. And Stevens, for some reasons, wasn't in the hospital at all. She had called in sick, which she never did. Indeed, ever since Hahn had left the hospital, Izzie's behavior had become increasingly erratic. Jack had tried to ask Karev if he had noticed any problems with his girlfriend, and Alex, in his typical fashion, had told him that she was fine.

Jack knew that something had to be going on. All of the second year residents were in the process of competing for their first solo surgery. Even given how badly his first had turned out, Jack knew what a big deal this was. He wasn't, however, entirely sure that he approved of _how_ the residents were preparing for this surgery. They were busy cutting on cadavers every spare hour they weren't working on patients, the surgical automated dummy was always in use, and the competition for any procedure had gotten even more intense. He had a feeling that Yang, at least, practically lived at the hospital now.

What Jack worried about was that somehow this was going to affect the general quality of care. Already, all the residents were practically handling anything that _didn't_ involve some kind of trauma to their interns. That wasn't abnormal, Jack had been buried under the same kind of treatment when he'd been an intern. What bothered him was that all of the interns were basically disappearing, and none of the residents or attendings seemed to give much of a damn.

In retrospect, Jack realized he should've been paying more attention to the rumors he'd been hearing. Given the things he'd seen just on the island, let alone the gossip that tended to spread at hospital, he should've been a bit more open. But the stories didn't seem like they would be plausible even _on_ the island. Interns working in the subbasement, working on doing stitches and other kinds of openings for procedures? It sounded like something that would've been practiced in the _19th_ century. Certainly not in the new millennium.

So when Christina Yang ran up to him, speaking in a manner that for anyone else would border on hysteria, he knew something bad had happened. When she told him what had happened, though, he couldn't comprehend what she had just told him.

"Your intern is performing an appendectomy." he said.

"Yes."

"On another intern."

"Yes."

"Who has a perfectly healthy appendix."

"What part of this aren't you getting?" Yang finally said angrily.

"Frankly, all of it." Jack said, bluntly. "I've been hearing a lot of talk for the last couple of weeks, talk that sounded like it would be more fitting for a Hammer horror film than an actual hospital. Did you hear any of this talk?"

"What does that matter?" Yang never did seem to grasp when she was in trouble.

Jack got quiet. He usually went for the emotional outburst when he got pissed, but he had a feeling it wouldn't work for Christina. "Yang. I'm an attending. Which means I'm your boss. And unlike a lot of the surgical staff, I don't think you walk on water. In fact, I don't like you all. Now take that under consideration, and answer my question. Did you know that your interns were cutting themselves?"

Yang and Jack didn't cross paths that often. But she could clearly tell that she was in over her head and that she was dealing with someone who didn't particularly give a damn about her future. So she looked him dead in the eye, and said: "I didn't think that this was going to happen."

If it had been strictly up to Jack, Yang would have been out on her ass right at that moment. "You're in charge of them, Christina," Jack said in that same eerily quiet tone. "I know it is your tendency to not even know the names of the people you're supervising, but there's a reason that's not a particularly good policy. Now, who else knows about this?"

Christina had only thought things were bad. "Just Meredith."

Jack nodded. "And I assume the only reason you called her in was because you wanted to keep this quiet, and hopefully under the radar." He held up his hand. He wasn't even going to give a chance for Yang to weasel out of this. "Here's what going to happen. I'm going to scrub, and remove a perfectly healthy appendix. While I'm doing that, you're going to call Weber, and tell him exactly what happened. You don't have to go into detail about a neglect so big it gives new meaning to the word negligence, but it might help. After that, you will gather all of the interns who have decided to play 'Operation' on actual people in one room. They're to wait there, and when I'm finished, I will mete out a punishment fitting to the crime."

Yang took a deep breath. "All right." She started to walk off.

"Yang." Jack told her. "You might be able to persuade Weber that you're not responsible for this flagrant disregard of procedure. I understand you've been quite good at that in the past. I just want to tell you, up front, you're not off the hook. None of you are going to just walk away from this. Not this time"

He wasn't entirely sure, but for the briefest of moment, he thought Yang shuddered.

"You should all be relieved that Sadie Horner managed to get through the surgery without any complications," Jack told the nineteen assembled interns three hours later. "She'll be in bed for a week, but otherwise she should be fine. That is all the good news that you're going to get."

Jack turned and faced the assemblage. "Are we on a deserted island in the Pacific?"

It was taking everything Lexie Grey had not to burst into tears. Over the past several months, Jack Shephard had been, by far, the most understanding surgeon on the entire staff to her. He had been a guiding force to her, he had been comforting when she felt the stress of her family life, and he had quickly forgiven her for her involvement in arranging for the arrest of Kate Austen. She would have been gravely upset to anger any of the surgeons on call. To have outraged this Dr. Shephard, though - it hurt almost as much as seeing Meredith's disapproval. "Dr. Shephard, we're sorry that -"

"Answer the question, Miss Grey." And that hurt nearly as bad. Up until now, he'd always referred to her, in public and private, as Dr. Grey.

"No. We are not."

"I once had to operate on a deserted island in the Pacific. Had to use mini-bottles of alcohol and shoots of bamboo as needles. Had to use my own blood to transfuse a patient, because we didn't have any one else's blood. The patient died a miserable and horrible death after nearly twelve hours of what could laughingly be called the best possible care I could give him." Jack paused. "That's the only reason you operate on yourself. Not because you want to assist on a goddamn solo surgery!"

Now the anger that Jack had unleashed on so many people on the island was present. The fact that this might actually be one of the rare cases where it was justifiable didn't make him the least bit happy.

"I don't want to hear any of your pathetic justifications that you wanted to be better doctors or that Sadie actually performed the first incision on herself. Because it doesn't matter. You all conspired to do this. You knew that this was unethical, even if you had decided to ignore that it was stupid, and you decided to keep doing it. " Jack began walking around all of the interns. "Then you were caught doing it, you lied to your residents that you would stop doing it, and now one of your own is on a hospital bed."

There was a very long pause. One of the other residents slowly dared to speak up. "You do know some of the things the residents have been doing?

"You know that two wrongs will never make a right? And by the way, real classy of you trying to pass the buck." Jack held up a hand. "The residents are in trouble enough, believe me. I'd worry about the patch of quicksand that you have all simultaneously stepped in. Because in order to pull you all out of it, you could end up dragging this entire hospital down with you."

Now the guilt was starting to sink in on everybody's faces. They knew the terrible shape that Seattle Grace was in, and they'd all basically decided to ignore it. And it was clear that they hadn't even considered their own futures, much less the hospitals.

"If it were strictly up to me, all of you would be gone. It would damage this hospital fatally, but probably not nearly as much as the damage that you have all already done tonight. As it is, I've just finished what was a complete unnecessary surgery on someone who is at least as liable as all of you. And I'm tired. Tired of looking at all of you." Jack told them. "So what you're all going to do is go home. And until further notice, none of you will be allowed back in this hospital."

Lexie remained as stoic as she could, but she was stunned. A mass suspension this sweeping would have taken an authority that she was pretty sure that even Dr. Weber didn't have. Jack may have been in charge right now, but he was in no position to give a decree of this magnitude.

Another feckless intern dared to object. "Um, sir, I don't think you have the authority to do this..."

"Don't tell me what I can't do. Now get out before I decide to exceed my authority."

Jack had no idea that he had just quoted one of John Locke's most common phrases. He probably wouldn't have cared much had he known, though. The term definitely did seem to fit the occasion. The irony was, had he known where and when his arch rival had said, Locke probably would've approved.

After all, the man hated hospitals.

Understandably, Jack had to stay at the hospital nearly four hours after his shift was supposed to end. Weber came in about an hour after Christina and Meredith called him, at least as angry as Jack was, but far more restrained. He was upset that his rare evening with Adele had been interrupted by something so egregious, but he more than understood why it had happen. He even complimented the two residents on doing the right thing by telling him.

The old Jack Shephard would have immediately ratted out his residents. He believed in the code of conduct, and if the two of them had known about what their interns were doing, they had certain level of culpability as well. What stopped him from doing so was his concern for his boss. He hadn't been lying to Hahn last week when he had told her that he was worried about the level of stress that Richard had been under for the last few month - stress that was no doubt intensified with the hunt for a new cardiac surgeon. He was going to have to deal with a lot more exertion, now that half the surgical interns hospital had decided to play doctor on themselves, and not in the way that most of Seattle Grace usually did. The fact that two residents he trusted had betrayed him on that same night could very well give him a heart attack of his own.

So Jack exercised discretion for a change and held his tongue. Weber, in the meantime, told the two residents to make sure Sadie was okay, and then 'explain to her in no uncertain terms just how dangerous what she'd done had been."

Once they left the room, Richard put his head in his hands. "It's times like this that make me wish I still drank."

"It's times like this make me wish I was still foraging for my own food," Jack countered.

Weber looked up. "I rarely get to say this, but you win." He gave a deep, tired sigh. "You know about three months before I hired you, I was going to retire. Had a replacement picked out and everything."

Jack had heard gossip to that fact. "Still wishing you'd followed that impulse."

"More and more." He looked at Jack. "You know, Jack, I don't think I've ever properly thanked you."

Now he was surprised. "If you mean for tonight, I did what I thought was the right thing," he started.

"Not for that. You're the only surgeon who's worked at this hospital for an extended period of time, and haven't even tried to make a play for my job."

"You knew my father had been chief of surgery at St. Sebastian when you hired me," Jack replied. "If you knew that, you probably knew that he was an alcoholic, too."

"The community of men in charge isn't that big," Weber told him. "I figured that was at least part of the reason you were so eager to jump ship."

"I don't know what kind of alcoholic you were," Jack told him. "But my father was higher functioning, at least up until the end. He managed to convince everybody else he was fine when he wasn't. I don't how much of his drinking had to do with the kind of chief he was. I know it had an effect on the kind of father he was."

Weber considered this. "You thinking about having a family?"

Jack was a little surprised. "A bit. Ever since I learned Aaron was my nephew. But you know, I haven't exactly had the greatest track record when it comes to love."

"How does that make you different from, oh, everybody else on staff?" Weber smiled at that.

"Big difference, all they care about who they're screwing. You' d think a bunch of doctors would know better." Jack smiled himself. "But I don't think I answered the first question you asked. You know, you're one of the only people at this hospital who never asked what happened on the island."

"I didn't think it was a qualification for working at the hospital," Weber told him. "Besides, I actually found it kind of refreshing. Normally, everybody working for me feels that they have to tell me what's going on in their personal lives, whether I want to know about it or not. As long as it didn't affect their work, it was none of my business." He hesitated. "But that doesn't mean I wasn't curious."

Jack had been keeping his secrets about the island close to the vest. He felt good enough about sharing with the rest of his friends that he didn't feel that he had to tell anybody else what was going on. He'd told some of it to Bailey, and some to Addison, but not a lot of other people.

"I woke up in a jungle," he found himself saying. "The passenger part of the plane wrecked on the beach, and I followed training as if I was in a mass casualty. I'd started pulling people out of the wreckage, saving who I could, trying to treat who I could. There were a bunch of other people who were helping me - you've met quite a few of them by now -but I was the only one who knew what I was doing. You combine that with the fact that I was a doctor, and people began looking to me for leadership. Even though I really didn't want the job."

Weber actually had to think about this for a few moments. "I can't pretend that I was ever in a situation like that," he said slowly. "But I do know that being a doctor in any stressful situation, people respect it. Like a uniform."

"I've had a lot of time to think about it over the last year," Jack told him. "And the truth is, I should have followed that impulse. I wasn't a good leader. Sure, I was rational, but I didn't trust a lot of people. When my leadership was challenged, and good advice was given, I basically chose to ignore it. And as a result of how I did things, people died. People called me a hero after we were rescued. Truth is, I got very lucky. And there were a lot more qualified people who were responsible for getting us saved. I almost gave up on it."

Weber looked a little shocked to hear all this. Jack was surprised himself. He usually wasn't this forthcoming with people outside of his fellow castaways.

"I guess what I'm trying to say, Richard, is that the main reason I haven't tried for your job is because I don't want it. I had one that was a lot harder for a few months, and I seriously found myself lacking."

"Maybe you'd do a lot better when the stakes were a lot less higher than life or death," Weber pointed out.

"We're surgeons, Richard. The stakes are always life or death." Jack reminded him. "More to the point, I never liked it when people started questioning my decisions. And that's basically half of what a chief of staff has to deal with."

"Well, they don't involve starvation or dying of thirst, but I see your point." Weber said.

"I've identified my fatal flaw. I felt like I had to fix everything. And I always found it hard to let other people tell me what to do. I think I'm better at being part of a group than the leader of one. This may come as hard to believe, but following can be just as difficult as leading."

"Considering the egos that are in the hospital, I have no trouble believing that. Especially considering what's just happened. Now I have to convince the board that this is a minor incident that doesn't require drastic action, which is going to be a hell of a sales job, considering that twenty-two interns were complicit." Weber got to his feet. "If you are the loyal follower you say you are, what do you think I should tell them?"

Jack had been considering this for the last few hours himself. "Believe it or not, I don't have any brilliant ideas. All I know is that according to the hospital guidelines - which you helped draft over the past decade - all of the interns involved in these surgeries have violated hospital protocol and are each subject to a minimum suspension of no less than three weeks."

"If half the surgical interns in this hospital disappear for a month, there will be chaos in these corridors." Weber said grimly.

"And the board will go nuts if they find out this happened, and we chose to do nothing." Jack countered.

"Either way, there's a very good chance I may be retiring soon, whether I want to go or not." Weber rubbed his eyes. "The sad part is, I was actually starting to like my job again."

He knew he probably didn't feel nearly as exhausted as his boss, but suddenly Jack felt very tired indeed. He sat down.

"Well, talking to someone who does just want to follow, any ideas?" Weber asked.

"No, but maybe I'm just too tired to think." Jack looked at Weber. "How long do you think you can safely put off telling the board?"

"I've still got some credibility within them, but they've been breathing down my neck since the rankings came out." Weber told him. "I might be able to get away with seventy-two hours."

"Let me sleep on it. And maybe by tomorrow, some brilliant idea will have come to me."

By the time Jack got home, it was just past five a.m. Despite everything that had happened that night, he still need to settle down. So he walked into the kitchen

Where he found he was not alone. "I thought Aaron was sleeping through the night," he asked his sister

"He usually does," Claire told him. "But he kept having nightmares. I had to sing to him three separate times. It was just after the last one that I realized you should've been home by now."

Not long after the trial, Claire and her mother had finished moving to Seattle. About a month after that Jack, who had basically been living in an apartment since then, decided to buy a hose so that they could all live together. The arrangement had mostly worked out - Aaron was more than a year old, and most of the hard parts of raising a baby were past them. The house was big enough so that Kate would be able to move in when her time was served.

"You don't think Aaron still remembers the island, do you?" Claire asked.

"As a doctor, most of the memory functions that we as adults use don't form until we're at least two or three. So I wouldn't consider it likely." Jack said. "The part of me that still has the occasional nightmare from the island, though, is not prepared to rule it out."

Claire nodded at that. Considering that she had more reason to have nightmares than just about everybody else who'd come back, he wasn't that surprised. "That's why I'm up at this hour. Why'd you get home so late?"

"This is one of those days I really wonder if I'm going to be working at the hospital much longer."

"More trouble because of those stupid rankings?"

"I wish." Jack then gave an abbreviated version of what had happened at the hospital that night. By the time, he was finished, the sun was starting to come up.

Claire, as was her want, considered this for a few moments. "You really think they'll fire Weber?"

"I don't know how they can blame this on him, but that's how these things work in hospitals." Jack got to his feet. "What pisses me off, Meredith and Christina, who are the ones who really dropped the ball, are probably going to do their first solo surgeries right around the time Richard might have to end a brilliant career of thirty years."

"But you were there. Surely you can explain that none of this is his fault."

"And if Richard was the kind of man who wanted to save his ass, he could throw them under the bus. But he loves Meredith like a daughter, and he thinks Christina is going to be a brilliant surgeon." Jack shook his head. "He's so good at his job. But part of him really wants to retire rather than try to actually fix what's wrong with the hospital."

"What is wrong with Seattle Grace?" Considering that the hospital had saved her mother's life, and seemed more than capable when she or her mother came in for checkup, it was small wonder that Claire basically considered it perfect. "I mean, besides the obvious."

Jack had been the considering that very question long and hard the past few weeks. The cardiac surgery unit had been operating under a revolving door policy - they'd lost two chief heart surgeons in the past year. The structural problems were basically a mess, but at least they'd been dealt with over the past year. And most of the other surgeons at the hospital were top-notch. The problems seemed to be at the lower levels - the surgical residents, and the clear lack of communication between them and their interns. He would like to have thought this was just an isolated incident, but it was the clearest manifestation of what was a much bigger problem. The link from _Cool Hand Luke_ \- "What we got her is failure to communicate" - was never more appropriate. And somehow, it needed to be drilled into their heads.

Jack hadn't been lying about what he had told Weber - he knew wasn't a good leader. But he also knew that at a hospital, there were varying degrees of leadership. Miranda Bailey was nowhere near the level of leadership - yet - but she was clearly the strongest authoritative force at the hospital. He trusted her more than just about any of the other surgeons at the hospital. If she was made leader, he would've been more than willing to follow her. And he knew Weber felt the same way.

"Jack?"

He'd almost forgotten that his sister was in the room. "Honestly, I think a big part of the problem at the hospital is that there's too much politicking. Everybody is trying to get Richard's job when he quits, and the one person whose clearly the most qualified admires him too much to just take it."

"Well, politics have never been my strong suit. They weren't yours either." Claire said with a smile. "But surely there has to be another way to fix the place without throwing Richard under the bus."

Jack was never fully able to explain what connection he made in his mind to what his sister had said. Maybe it was something to do with trying to help the place. And who did both Jack and Claire know who had always been good at helping other people?

He looked at his watch. Five minutes of six. There was a good chance he'd be up by now, but at the moment Jack felt like the weight of the last twelve hours was going to cause him to collapse. Still...

"Claire, I'm going to get some rest." Jack said. "When I get up, remind me to call Hurley."


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Weber knew, even if he was still old enough to mentally handle the responsibilities of running the hospital, his body was beginning to have trouble. More and more often, it was the muscle memory and mental conditioning that enabled him to get through the long days of working. And a lot of that had to do with the fact that he was spending more than half his day on office work that he had rarely found satisfying when he'd first been at his job.

As if this wasn't enough of a reason to cause a headache, there was the fact that he still had no idea how he was going to handle the crisis of the previous night. More than half the surgical interns in the hospital needed to be disciplined - Shephard was right about that if nothing else. And considering how thoroughly Erica Hahn had read him the riot act before she resigned about Stevens, he was probably going to have to seriously punish the residents who had let this happen on their watch. He could feel the ulcer that he had in his body beginning to act up, and it wasn't even noon.

He hadn't been lying to Shephard. He did want to retire. But he wanted to do it on his own terms, not be forced out by the board. And as much as he loathed to admit it, he still liked his job. Not as much as before, but he knew he didn't want to lose it.

His secretary buzzed him. "Dr. Weber, Dr. Shephard wants to see you." She hesitated. "That's Shephard with an 'A'."

Weber was a little surprised. He'd last seen Jack less than ten hours ago. Could he really have come up with a solution that quickly? Or had he just changed his mind and said he wanted to make a play for his job? Either way... "Send him in."

Jack looked a lot better than he had, considering that he'd seemed nearly as exhausted as Richard felt. "Well, I guess a good night sleep really does do you a lot of good," he told him.

"A good night's sleep outside the hospital helps a lot more," Jack told him. "And sometimes just getting some distance can give you some clarity."

Richard was encouraged. "You have something."

"When my father got drunk, he would occasionally make some of these ethnic jokes that today society would and should look down on." Jack told them.

"I heard my share coming up as a resident. A lot of them are still told in some of the more unseemly hospitals."

"Leaving aside the slurs, there's one he told that was kind of pertinent," Jack said. "There were these two guys, and for a couple of months they had been working at building a house. After a while, they sit down, and one says: 'Bob, when you're building a house, where should you start, the roof or the foundation.' Bob thinks for a minute, and then says 'The foundation, Pete, I guess.'. And Bob says: 'Well then, let's get off the roof, and start building the foundation.'" Jack considered this. "Stripped to its essentials, it's really stale."

"It's not that funny when the n-word is thrown in." Weber told him. "I think I see the point you're trying to make, but for my sake, explain as if I were one of the guys in the joke."

"Ever since the rankings came out, you called a staff meeting, and made it very clear that you were going to do everything you could to bring us up. You shifted the rotation fir the majority of the residents, you scheduled bigger and more press-worthy surgeries, you hired more important surgeons to the staff," Jack told him. "These are big things, showy things that make Seattle Grace is still a player. But while you were doing all that, you ignored some of bigger problems. You didn't deal with the pipes until the hospital was actually taking on water, you didn't deal with the residents focusing on the solo surgery so much, they ignored their interns. Essentially, we've been ignoring the foundation. And last night, we saw the inevitable result."

"And what exactly would you consider the foundation to be?" Weber said neutrally.

"The RNs, the ER, the orderlies, the attendings who as a general rule don't operate on people." Jack told him. "When I was working at St. Sebastian and to a certain extent here, I find that the people who really make the hospital go, who understand its inner workings far more than any of us surgeons ever could, are the ones on the floor. Ninety percent of their job is making sure that the patients who end up on our table stay alive long enough for us to save them. They're the ones who have talk to the families and the friends of the patients to find out what exactly happened and how they can best treat it. And when a mass trauma comes in, they're the ones making the harder decisions to treat the ones that can be saved, and do their best for the ones that can't be. And for all of the work, even the kindest attendings never learn their names, and when we do its usually to tell them they screwed up. They get a fraction of what we get paid, none of the glory and most of the blame. They are the ones who can pull Seattle Grace into the top five far more than any rock star surgeon you can buy."

Weber had to admit there was a lot of truth to this. It had been decades since he had been one of those same interns, working thirty hour shifts just to get an attending to know his name. How many dozens of nurses and orderlies had saved his ass in the early years? And when they had tried to negotiate a pay raise that most of them probably needed to live on, he had acted like a bureaucrat instead of a doctor. Hell, the only reason he often bothered to learn a nurse's name was when he fired one.

"There's a lot of truth to what you're saying," he told Jack. "When we lost our title as a Trauma One center, I did everything in my power to fix it, except hire more personnel for the ER. One good ER attending is worth half a dozen hot-shot surgeons."

"We need more qualified nurses for the NICU. Hell, you can have the greatest cardiac surgeon in the world, and if he doesn't have competent nurses around him, you might as well have the worst."

"It's a good idea. The problem is, the same one its always been. The money just doesn't seem to be there. " Weber told him. "I'll admit I didn't help matters by spending two millions on a surgical robot and the last two trauma surgeons we hired, but even if I hadn't, I know the people on this board. They wouldn't hire more nurses unless Seattle was declared a federal disaster area."

"And what if I knew someone who would be more than willing to get us the money?" Jack asked. "More than that, you knew them already."

Weber knew Jack and his friends had money. But he also knew that this kind of thing always came with strings attached. "What are they going to ask for?"

"One person. And he's probably the most unselfish man in the entire world. I don't think there's anybody with the constitution to hate him." Jack told him. "All you have to do is call him."

"And you don't want anything in return?" Weber asked.

"I like this hospital, Richard. I want it to be good. And given what its done, I'm pretty sure Hurley can be convinced too."

Hurley had never been comfortable wearing a suit and tie. Part of it was for the obvious reason - it had never been a picnic finding a suit that fit him. But mostly it was because he tended to think of suit with bad occasion - his Grandpa Tito's funeral and all the chaos that had brought, the receptions he had to attend for the Oceanic memorial, and so on. The last time he had worn one was at the memorial for Jack's father more than a year and a half ago.

But ever since the foundation had become a big part of his life, he knew that it was expected of him. He didn't think it was anything personal - after all, ever since he won the lottery, Hurley had known he didn't fit the convention of even the typical LA millionaire - but now, he was asking people for money, and that required a certain amount of respect on both sides. So, as was his nature, he was going to do his part.

"Thanks for doing this," Jack said as he and Hurley walked inside the elevator.

"Dude, next time ask for something difficult," Hurley tried to assure his friend. "Given what this place did for Claire, I know this place is a good investment."

"You might not feel that way if you knew what was going on the past couple weeks," Jack mumbled. Hurley looked curiously at his friend. "I'll tell you after the meeting." He paused. "Or maybe Weber himself will. "

"It's okay, Jack. I'm the guy who's gonna, you know, have to sell it. This is the easy part." Hurley reminded him. "We still on for dinner with Claire and Aaron after this?"

"Of course," Jack said simply.

"And the conditions that I mentioned?"

"If they seem shaky, I'll support you completely." Jack assured him. "But honestly, they're probably going to be grateful you don't want a wing named for you."

"Dude, why do they call it a wing?" Hurley asked. "It's not like the building is going to take off." Jack fixed him with a look. "Don't worry, I won't ask."

"Honestly, Mr. Reyes, I'm really not sure why it didn't occur to me to come to you before," Weber was telling him. "Given how good a friend you've been to Jack, and what a good experience Miranda said she had helping you establish your rehabilitation center, you should've been on my list earlier."

"I liked working with her. She's a nice woman," Hurley said honestly enough.

"I won't tell her you said that. She prides herself on being a pitbull." Weber told her.

"Oh, I saw that in her a lot, too," Hurley told her. "But a lot of my friends are like that. Hard exterior, soft chewy center."

"Like I said, Hugo here knows how to get the absolute best out of people," Jack told him.

"Well, a $10 million dollar pledge by your foundation," Weber told them. "I really feel like its the other way around this time."

Now Hurley leaned over in his chair. "There are a couple of conditions, though."

"I wouldn't have expected any kind of donor to not want any." Despite his genial tone, which hadn't changed, Hurley could tell that Richard Weber had inwardly stiffened just the slightest bit.

"I want one and a half million dollars of that pledge to be spent on upgrade and improving your psychiatric facilities," Hurley told him.

Weber clearly hadn't been expecting this. "I won't have a problem with that, but may I ask why?"

"I've always felt that maintaining one's mental health is something that never gets quite enough respect, even within the medical community," Hurley had spent a lot of time working with Sun when it came to phrasing things like a business person. "I frankly think that if we worked on discussing and sharing these kinds of problems, a lot of the other stuff would be easier to deal with. Plus, if Seattle Grace had a reputation for having better psychiatrists and psychologists working for you, it couldn't hurt."

Weber actually seemed to think about this. "I do know some people on our own staff could probably benefit with some more time with the psyche department. All right, I think I can manage that. What else?

Hugo actually shifted. This was a little uncomfortable for him. "I had a discussion with some people I work with. They said that, about a year before Jack started working here, there was a strike involving the nurses."

"If you or your board are concerned about that, its long since been resolved."

"Actually, its a little more personal than that." Hurley paused. "My Grandpa Tito, he worked three jobs for fifty-two years. By his count, he went out on a picket line thirteen separate times. I only remember the last four. They were pretty serious. The last one, I had to take on an extra shift at Mr. Cluck, just so we could get by."

Hurley remembered it very well. It was probably the only time he could remember Randy being civil to him. "What I'm trying to say is, that I've been on both sides of this. And I think that if I'm, you know, going to give you a lot of money to hire more nurses or orderlies, you understand where they're coming from about how they live."

Jack clearly hadn't known this part was coming. "I didn't know anything about that, Richard."

"No, I really didn't think about it the last time it happened. Maybe I have been in management too long." Richard looked at him. "The next contract negotiation isn't scheduled for another year. What can we do to alleviate your concerns on this front?"

"I just want to make sure that next time out, there will be a meeting between the workers and management before things get this desperate. Grandpa Tito kept telling me every time he went out on strike that he didn't want just to seem nameless. Someone who could be thrown out and replaced when he was used up." Hurley told him. "It was about the money, but it was also about respect. And as someone who didn't get any until he had money..." Hurley paused.

"You have my word, Mr. Reyes. We will do things the right way." Weber seemed to mean it.

"Then I think this is the start of a good relationship. And dude, call me Hurley."

There had been a fair amount of paperwork to go through, and Hurley had known that there was more likely to be another one of these press conferences and ceremonies, but by now, he was starting to get used to both. If you were going to be a benefactor, you had to be willing to take your bows. And frankly, Hurley was actually happier to be out in public for these kinds of things than he had been for everything else. It made him feel that he was lucky for once.

Jack had wanted to get dressed before they went out with Claire and the rest of her family, so Hurley had gone down to the lobby to wait. The temperature had dipped considerably, and having spent so much of his life in LA, he wasn't used to the change in climate, so he waited inside.

Most of the people - patients, families, even some people in scrubs, were inside. But from his position Hugo could see that there was a woman waiting outside. She was stocky, had dark hair, was clearly Latina, and in Hurley's opinion, rather striking. She also looked vaguely familiar. The white coat indicated she was a doctor here. Had he met her when he and the rest of the Oceanics had been present for the surgery on Claire's mother? Possibly. There had been a lot of distractions even before Kate had shown up.

The old Hurley would have had a lot of trouble approaching her even after coming back to civilization. Given everything that had happened involving Libby, he had been gun-shy about even talking to any women. He'd gotten a fair amount of letters from women more than willing to throw themselves at him, but he'd never been that kind of person (much to his Ma's dismay). And given the gossip that Jack had shared with him about all the sex that went on here, he didn't think he could rule out the possibility that she could throw herself at him five minutes after meeting him.

Still, there was something about her that he recognized, even from through a glass wall. She seemed to be suffering from some kind of heartache. She could be a surgeon, and it was possible she was agonizing over the loss of a patient, but the part of him that Hurley would never give himself credit for being as smart as he was, realized that she had clearly suffered some kind of more kind of personal loss than that.

So, because he was the kind of man who had always put the wellbeing of others well before that of himself, he walked outside into the cold, and slowly walked up to the woman. Considering that he was still only a dozen pounds lighter than he had been before the plane crash, Hurley had expected she'd hear him coming, or at least notice that someone significantly larger than her was taking up her oxygen. She never even turned around.

He didn't say anything. Neither did she. Hurley supposed this was why he'd never had much luck with women, before or after the plane crash.

"If you hadn't gotten the hint, I don't feel like talking," she finally said.

"That's cool," Hurley told her. "I'm waiting for a friend. And you looked kind of depressed."

The women doctor turned around. She looked him over. Not with the kind of repulsion that so many women had given him when they'd seen him, just curious. "Do I know you from somewhere?" she asked.

"Only if you, like, watched the news anytime within the last couple of years," Hurley told her.

"I'm a doctor. We barely have time to watch ten minutes of TV a day."

Strangely enough, Hurley was more encouraged by this than anything. She wouldn't hold his celebrity status against or for him. "And I have been at this hospital a couple of times before. I'm one of Jack Shephard's friends."

Now, she blinked. "That's right. You were here for the Littleton surgery."

"Hugo Reyes." He put out his hand."

"Callie Torres." She shook it. Firmly. "Sorry. I'm usually better with faces than that."

"It's fine. There was a lot going on that day."

"Jack's a good guy. He's been a real help to me the last few months."

And suddenly, Hurley was able to put two and two together. In the ongoing stories about the hospitals often entangled sex saga, the name Callie Torres had come up a couple of times. She had been married to George O'Malley, who Hurley also remembered from a couple of previous mentions, and George had cheated on her with his best friends, Izzie. Torres and O'Malley had divorced, and than George hadn't even had the decency to stay with Izzie after the marriage had gone kaput.

Hurley wasn't a judgmental person by nature, but he had been a little irked by this story. Bad enough that O'Malley, who had always seemed like a decent guy to Jack, had blown up his marriage to a nice Latina for some kind of blonde model, but he hadn't had the courage to either stay with the mistress or go back to the wife. Either way, it seemed utterly cruel even before he'd seen her. However, he didn't think telling this to Torres would make her feel better.

"You look like you've had a crummy day," he said instead, walking closer to her.

"More like a crappy six months," she told him. "I'm sorry. You're here to see Jack. The last thing you want to hear is a crazy Latina vent."

"You've never met my mother, obviously." Hurley joked. "Besides, hasn't Jack told you? I'm a great listener."

Torres considered this. "It's a long story."

"I've got time."

Torres hesitated. "Well, I got married to a guy, who I thought was one of the sweetest men on Earth. And two months into our marriage, he has a roll in the sack with a blond bimbo resident. I get promoted to chief resident. And the same day, he tells me he's had this affair. I forgive him for that affair, and that same blonde bimbo tries to fight me for him in the hospital cafeteria!"

This part of the conversation Jack had left out. "Are you talking, like, a duel?" It was the only part of this crazy story that made sense.

"You know, I'm not a violent person, but I so wanted to just punch her in the face. Instead, I do the decent thing, and let her be with him. Of course, I'm so distracted by everything I don't have time to do the work that Weber gave me, so he gives the chief position to Bailey, who, honestly, should have had it in the first place."

"He didn't understand your personal problems?" That didn't seem like the Weber he'd just talked with.

Torres actually became a little sheepish. "I didn't tell him. And considering how much trouble he was having with his own marriage at the time, he probably would've cut me some slack." She shook her head. "So that part, at least, is on me."

"So did you divorce him or what?" Hurley honestly didn't know. Jack hadn't gone into detail on this part.

"Wasn't easy, considering my background, but I didn't have the strength to put up a fight." Dr. Torres was now becoming more melancholy. "I spent the next few months rebuilding emotionally. And then, for reasons I don't understand, this doctor kissed me, and I kissed her back."

This was news to Hurley. For whatever reason, Jack hadn't told anybody about that particular relationship. But given Torres' appearance, it looked like it hadn't ended well either. "So you're, like, a lesbian now?"

"That's what I've been contemplating the last half hour. See, neither Erica and I had ever done anything like that before. We actually joked that that made us both virgins." She gave a sad smile. "So we went on a couple of dates, we started building our relationship, everything's going well. And then, she tells me she loves me."

"That's great." He looked her. "Or, maybe not?"

"I freaked out. Royally. I went to this guy who I'd been with a couple of times. And I guess I was confused. And I.. slept with him. " Torres looked really confused now. "Lesbians don't do that."

"Depends on the movie." Hurley paused. "Not that I, like, watch that stuff."

"It's okay." Torres smiled for the first time. "Everybody our age grew up watching Cinemax late at night."

This actually shocked Hurley a little. He didn't think women watched porn. "So what happened?"

"I told her what happened cause I wanted to be honest. And she got pissed. And a week ago, she quit. So now, not only have I screwed up another serious relationship, but I cost this hospital the head of cardio. If Weber knew that, he'd probably fire me."

Hurley admired Jack's discretion. In relaying the usual sex gossip last visiting day, he hadn't mentioned Torres or Erica at all.

"Sounds like you may be the one person on the planet who has worse luck with the women than I do."

"You won a hundred million dollars in the lottery, you survived a plane crash, and you made it back to civilization." Torres told him. "I'm kind of shocked women aren't stalking you."

"You said didn't know who I was."

"I know who Hugo Reyes was. I didn't know you were Hugo Reyes." Torres sounded sheepish again. "There was an article in Forbes about a year ago, the 100 wealthiest Latinos in America. You were 26th on the list."

"At least it wasn't 23rd," Hugo muttered.

"What?"

"Nothing." A new question came to Hugo's mind. "You read Forbes? Doesn't sound like the kind of thing that would be tops on a doctor's reading list."

"My father was 39th on the list." Torres was trying to look at the floor.

This was a big shock. "You come from money?"

"My father runs a fairly big agricultural firm." Torres told him. "I don't exactly advertise it. My husband freaked when he learned. Didn't think you would."

"Yeah, people do look at you differently when they know you're rich," Hurley admitted. "Probably why I didn't tell anybody until after we got rescued. I kind of thought it was a curse."

"Well, when I told my husband, first he flunked his board exam, and then he left me for another woman. You just heard what the last few months have been like. " Torres suddenly changed her tone. "I'm sorry, I didn't think of what the last couple of years have been like for you."

Hurley waved it off. "The last couple of years have been all right. The year before that kind of sucked, though," he admitted. "After I won the lotto, my Grandpa died, my brother's wife left him, my best friend ran off to Miami with the only girl I'd ever had a crush on. I was convinced I was cursed. Getting on a plane that crashed, killing 253 people on impact didn't exactly make me feel much better. And after all that mess about what happened on the island, afterward..."

He suddenly trailed off, thinking he might have been, in grand Hurley style, about to tell all the tales of the plane crash to a complete stranger. But Torres either didn't notice or didn't seem to care.

"I guess you do have me beat," she admitted. "But at least you have friends and family who give a damn about you. I've been at this hospital for nearly a year and a half, and I think I have maybe one friend, I'm not sure whether I'm a lesbian or not, I'm officially divorced, and now I'm not sure whether my father will ever speak to me again."

"Let me guess. Your dad's really Catholic." Hurley asked.

For the first time, Torres actually seemed surprised. "How the hell did you know that?"

"My mom's the same way. I don't know what she was angrier about what happened with Diego: that his wife left him, or she left him for another woman." Hurley shrugged. "I was fine with it, but she's barely spoken to him. I mean, its not like her being gay was his fault."

"Dad wasn't wild I got married that fast," Callie admitted. "He was even less thrilled when I got divorced nearly as fast. And you know how the church is about being gay. You're not even supposed to question it."

"Are you questioning it?" Hurley hadn't even known Dr. Torres for ten minutes, but somehow this question seemed to matter a lot.

"I don't know." Callie admitted. "When you go to med school, you read a lot about Kinsey, Master and Johnson, all these great minds who did studies on sexuality, and a lot of them seemed to think that sexuality was a fluid thing. Now, of course, we have other studies saying that you're either one or the other. " She shook her head. "I can't believe I'm telling you this."

"Hey, we wealthy, big-boned, Latinos have to stick together, right?" Hurley joked.

For the first time since they had started talking, Torres smiled. It lit her face. Hurley changed his mind about something. She wasn't striking. She was beautiful.

"How long are you going to be in town?" she asked.

Hurley wasn't sure he'd heard right. Then he managed to focus. "Only until tomorrow morning. I'm catching the train back to LA at 2."

"Oh."

"But I come up here a lot." It was an exaggeration, but not much of one. Ever since Claire and her mother had moved to Seattle earlier that year, several of the Oceanics came up to Seattle once a month or so to get together. Kate, obviously, couldn't come, but everyone else did.

Come to think of it, now that he had just made a major donation to this hospital, he'd have to come more often just to follow up on foundation business. And wasn't there going to have to be some kind of formal ceremony in about a week

"I'm going to be up here next week," he told her. "Let me give you my cell number. We can talk then, if you're still interested."

"I'm a little surprised you are," she told him, as he wrote it down. "You do know I'm probably gay?"

"Honestly, my ma would be so glad to know I'm having contact with any Latina, and a doctor to boot, she probably wouldn't care if I was just your mustache."

Torres looked puzzled, then started chuckling. "I'm pretty sure you meant beard, Hugo"

Hurley shook his head. "I think she'd be fine with that, too. And by the way, call me Hurley."

"Sure, if you'll call me Callie. I'm kind of sick of everybody just calling me Torres."

"Not a problem. What's it short for, by the way?" he asked.

"Calliope. Why do they call you Hurley?'

"I survived a plane crash, and never told anybody why." Hurley told her. "I'm pretty sure I'm taking that secret to my grave." He paused. "Maybe if we get to know each other better."

"I look forward to finding out."

There was something in Callie's tone that made Hurley even happier he'd chosen to talk to her, sexual confusion not-withstanding.


	6. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Addison wanted to be a mother more than just about anything in the world. But that need did not surpass her natural thoroughness when it came to approaching any new treatment. She was one of the top experts in neonatology and gynecology in the country, and in order to do that, you had to keep track of everyone in your field. When Jack had mentioned Juliet Burke to her, the name had rang only the faintest of bells with her, even though he had called her a brilliant doctor.

So, she had called Naomi, with the intention of asking her to do some research. She hadn't expected for her friend to be able to give her answer right then.

"I followed her research for while in the late 90s," she told Addison. "She was hailed by the Harvard Medical Journal as one of the better researchers in the country. Most of it had the potential to be groundbreaking, particularly in women who'd suffered cervical and breast cancer."

That was fairly impressive, and the computers backed her up. "You ever meet her at any conferences?"

"Once. It was the fall of '99, I think. " Naomi paused. "It wasn't even directly. Her ex-husband, Edmund was giving a paper. I'm guessing you remember _him."_

Indeed she did. In the medical community, Edmund Burke had been known for being a person whose brilliant mind didn't nearly make up for his monumental arrogance. That was how Addison had known the name. "She was still working with that prick?"

"She was on the stage when he gave that paper. I'm betting she did ninety percent of the research, I don't think she said three words the entire hour. Bastard answered all the questions, and took all the credit." Naomi shook her head. "That whole time, I think all she wanted to do was sink into the floor."

"Man was a beast." Addison paused. "Still a shame what happened to him." Edmund Burke had been flattened by a bus in February of 2001. "So, what happened to here? She just fall into mourning for three years. I can't find any record of her doing anything in our little world between then and 2005."

Naomi hesitated. "You know tiny our community is," she said slowly.

"Medical or fertility?"

"Both. Everybody knows everybody. This is just rumor, and you might want to check it with her first, but she seemed to be working with this company called Mittelos for the last three years.."

"I never heard of them. What do they do?"

"That's the question." Naomi paused, delicately. "Around the time they were recounting the votes in Florida, a couple of representatives from Mittelos approached me. I was still working at Marin County, and I got a call from a Dr. Richard Alpert. Now I'd never heard of Mittelos or Dr. Alpert, but he was offering to meet with me for lunch, so I figured what the hell."

Addison had never heard this story. "And?"

"The whole thing was freaky. He tells me that he's part of this scientific think tank that operates out of Portland. He knows about my work in LA, and he says that the people he represents were very impressed with my work in fertility research and as a midwife. He says that they're dealing with a problem with pregnancy, and they're offering me all the time and materials that I need if I'll give them six months to solve this problem."

This set off warning bells in Addison's head. "This sounds about as legitimate as a spam from a Nigerian prince."

"Hell, that was only the start of the craziness. I tell them what I'm making at the hospital, and he says that Mittelos will make sure all your needs are met. That sounded pretty hippy-dippy even for Portland. When I tell him that its going to take a considerable amount of money to uproot Sam and Chloe, he gets even cagier, saying that we have access to classified material that would prohibit their coming with me. Now, back then Sam and I were having trouble but I wasn't nearly ready to give up on my marriage yet. I politely refused, and told them to give me a card in case someone else was willing to jump on this boat. Then he looked at me, and said that we're perfectly capable of finding our own talent."

"Sounds right out of the Twilight Zone." Addison told her.

"Or maybe they were part of some top secret government project, and I just couldn't trust a guy who was wearing more eyeliner than I was." Naomi told her. "Who recommended Juliet Burke to you?"

"Jack Shephard. Said they'd worked together a couple of times."

"That makes even less sense." Naomi told her. "Juliet Burke lived and operated out of Miami. As everyone in the world knows, Jack Shephard worked in LA until the crash."

That had made little sense to Addison, as well as the question in what capacity any spinal surgeon would've worked with an OB-GYN. It wasn't unheard of - she'd been in a couple of emergency cases with Jack over the last - but this was a real case of rarely the twain shall meet.

"Addison, I'll bottom-line it for you. If you're asking me whether or not Juliet Burke is qualified to help you, then the short answer is yes. But before you go jetting to Miami to see if she can give you a baby, you need to get the longer answer."

Nae, as she had been so often in their friendship, was right. What's more, Addison did watch the news, and she knew that Jack wasn't the only Oceanic connection to Juliet Burke. For the past year, she had been dating one James Ford, who prior to his return to civilization, had been known for being a con man. She didn't believe in coincidences.

Like everyone else at Seattle Grace, no one had pushed Jack too hard after they learned about what happened the one hundred days he and his friends had been stranded on an island in the Pacific. This in itself was odd, considering this was a hospital where everybody seemed to know everybody else's business whether they wanted to or not. He had given bits and pieces of it to certain people, like Bailey, Weber and her ex-husband, but it was clear no one knew the whole story. Maybe it was because he was so self-effacing about it. In a profession where boasting was considering par for the course on simple procedure, the fact that this man, who had survived a plane crash, three months on an island, and had managed to get so many of his fellow passengers rescued, and had then spent much of his first few months at his job pretending it hadn't happened, that took a kind of bravery that, frankly, none of her fellow doctors, herself included, had.

And if that wasn't enough, Jack Shephard was a good doctor and a good friend. Despite all the caginess that surrounded the last few years of Burke's career, Addison found it impossible to believe that Jack would fob off someone potentially shady on her, considering her level of desperation.

She wanted a child. She had gone over some of her most recent publications, and it seemed that Dr. Burke could help with that. But she did have questions. And she knew from past experience that people were more likely to tell you the truth if you saw them face to face.

So she asked Weber for a few days off, called Juliet's office in Miami, and asked to schedule a consultation. And while she was there, she would see if she could get some answers to her questions.

Juliet had been a little shocked, when she had gotten back from her last trip to LA with James, that Addison Montgomery had ended up scheduling a consultation with her. She had emailed some of her charts to her hospital, asked her to look them over, and told her that she wanted to know if Juliet could possibly help her.

Juliet wasn't certain how nervous she should be. Dr. Montgomery might really want a child, but she didn't strike her as the kind of person who would put something as precious as her fertility in the hands of an expert without doing as much research as possible. Jack's word probably did count for a lot, but in this case, it might serve as a double-edged sword. How much gossip was going on at Seattle Grace about what had really happened to 'The Hero of 815?' Probably a lot, considering the gossip about his hospital.

She had actually considered calling Jack, and asking for advice on what exactly to say if she was asked directly. But she'd done that when he'd recommended her as a patient, and his advice had basically come down to three words: "I trust you."

Jack had always trusted her on the island, even when everybody in the camp had hated her guts. And an argument could be made that the consequences were far less severe in this case. People around the world wanted to know Jack's story. No one cared about hers. Besides, this was her job.

Addison Montgomery was a couple of years older than her, and very attractive at that. Juliet figured that the majority of the conversation was going to be about her own medical history. She had gone over the majority of her files over the past couple of days, and couldn't help but marvel at Jack's acumen when it came to sizing up patients.

"So your last examination was a month ago," she asked Addison, as they walked into the exam room.

"Naomi Wilder. She's a very dear friend of mine. Also one of the better obstetric surgeons in the country. I take her advice very seriously." Addison gestured towards the files Juliet was holding. "You can see why."

Indeed. According to her latest examination, Addison had four viable eggs. The odds of a successful pregnancy in a woman her age was low to begin with. Considering how few eggs she had now, it was less than five percent.

"You've been on the other side of this," she told Addison. "So you know as well as I do that I'm going to have to ask you some pretty embarrassing questions. "

Addison nodded. "Do your worst."

"Are you sexually active?" Juliet had to ask this question, even though she knew that just about _everybody_ at Addison's hospital was to some degree.

Addison actually had to think for a moment. "Actually, now that I think about it, I haven't had sex in nearly two months."

Juliet had spent the last three years keeping a perfect poker face, but this actually stunned her a bit. "What about in the past year?"

"I've had three sexual partners. My ex-husband, Derek, Dr. Mark Sloan, and a resident named Alex Karev."

Juliet had known about the first two from Jack. Karev came as a surprise, but then again, he had been an intern, and according to what she had heard, sleeping with your intern was what residents did. She was frankly amazed that sexual harassment lawyers didn't have Seattle Grace on permanent speed-dial. She shook it off.

"And I understand that you were pregnant two years ago."

Addison looked straight ahead. "Yes. I decided to terminate before my first trimester was over."

It was clear from how blandly she tried to see it how much that decision must have cost her, particularly considering her current status.

"All right. I know from what I've been told how much of an effort it must have been for you to come here," she said to Addison. "Now, there are two ways I can do this. I can be gentle and soothing and tell you what I think you want to hear, or I can be cold and factual."

"The last year hasn't exactly been a picnic for me," Addison replied. "I'd be grateful if you just ripped the band-aid off."

"Bad news first," Juliet said. "Given your age and the previous terminated pregnancy, I believe it unlikely that traditional methods like in vitro fertilization would be successful. If you're going to have a baby, we're going to have to go to some pretty unorthodox methods. Fortunately, in your case, I think you might be a candidate."

Addison actually looked hopeful for the first time since she had sat down. "Jack told me that you'd had some unconventional methods of treatment."

"A few years back, a woman I knew was suffering from breast cancer. The chemotherapy that she was on restored her health, but decimated her reproductive systems. At the time, the main project I was working on was restoring fertility in decaying test subjects lives. There'd been some success with mice, but after a combination of anti-virals and as yet, untested medication, she was able to have a baby."

All of this was true. Juliet had just neglected to mention that the test subject had been Rachel, and that if Edmund had told the medical board, there was a good chance she'd have lost her license.

"Last year, it was successfully used in a clinical trial, and the Miami Medical board signed off on it six months ago." Juliet paused. "That said, even on the handful of patients its been used for, the success rate is still barely over forty percent."

"Considering my chances are next to nil otherwise, I can't see anything can be lost by taking it." Addison asked.

"The medicine only gets you halfway there," Juliet told her. "It's going to be at least a month's worth of injections before we can tell whether your reproductive system has been healthy enough for insemination. And you know better most of my patients how much of an ordeal that can be."

"You're not much of a saleswoman, considering that this is your own solution."

Juliet smiled. "You know as well as I do that in this job, the best news you can give a woman is that she's going to have a baby. Considering that you flew across the continent on the word of an acquaintance, I know that you want to hear this yourself. So, here's the question I ask all my patients: are you ready for this?"

Addison considered this for a moment. "You asked me quite a few questions. I hope you'll do me the common courtesy of answering some of mine."

Juliet tensed up. She had a feeling that a lot of these questions weren't going to have anything to do with her own credentials. Still, she couldn't easily refuse. "What do you want to know?"

"I went over your credentials before I came here. I wouldn't have done this without due diligence." Addison began. "And I couldn't help but notice that from September of 2001 to last January, you were working with a company called Mittelos Bioscience."

There it was. The first time any patient in a year and a half had asked about that part of her work. "Have you heard in the company?"

"Bits and pieces over the years. They seem to operate out of Portland, but I know a lot of people in that area, and I haven't found anybody who worked for or with Mittelos."

"When I signed on with them, they made me sign an absurd number of confidential agreements." The truth. It hadn't been a big deal because, aside from Rachel, there hadn't been a huge amount of people to tell. Most of the people in Miami figured she had been going on a geographic escape to get over the loss of her husband. Of course, most of those people hadn't known Edmund Burke.

"I know. Gods knows, there are a lot of companies like that in the private sector, and I imagine they'd prohibit you telling me exactly what you were working on while you were there." Addison asked.

This seemed relatively safe territory. "Most of it had to do with the work I'm doing now. Much of the procedures that I'm using here were testing while I was at Mittelos."

"I'm a little surprised they let you keep them. Those kinds of companies are notorious for not letting that kind of research go."

This was actually safe territory, too. "They let me go because it wasn't working," Juliet admitted. "There were nine test cases over the three years I worked at Mittelos. All of them failed. " Then, because she was fundamentally honest. "In fact, all of the test subjects died."

Addison actually looked appalled at that. "My God. That must have been horrible."

"It was emotionally draining." Inspiration of a sort struck. "I was contracted to work there for six months. But after three successive failures using my treatment, they refused to honor the deal, and I was tied up in litigation hell for the next two years. They refused to let me out of my contract until I produced results. So I was stuck there, and as a result, six more women died. By then, they had enough respondents to launch a class action against Mittelos. I was released from my contract only after signing another massive confidentiality agreement."

"I can't imagine what you went through." Addison hesitated. "But by telling me, aren't you risking losing the payment?"

"Oh, I could give a damn about the money," Juliet said. "They are a horrible company. They knew how angry I was about being bound to Edmund, and they promised me freedom. And then they stripped me of that, they made a mincemeat out of my research, and they'll probably just keep on going, looking for the next sucker."

Addison looked appalled. "They tried to recruit a friend of mine once. They seemed shady, so she said no."

"Tell her if they ever come back to give them a solid punch in the gonads." Juliet so wished she'd done that to Richard Alpert the first time he'd approached her.

"I will." Addison hesitated again. "How do you know Jack?"

By now, she'd had enough time to figure out what she could say. "A few years, we had occasion to work for the same man. Like the Godfather, he made Jack an offer he couldn't refuse."

"Someone connected with Mittelos?"

"You could say that." Again, not a lie. "We had to work together on a couple of questionable cases, neither of which went particularly well. It was a messy situation, but we helped each other through it."

"Jack never talks that much about his past, crash included." Addison told her.

"Given how messy it is, I'm not that shocked." Then, because she knew from past experience implication could cover a thousand sins. "We had a thing for about five minutes."

"He keeps his romantic life private, too." Addison told her. "Which was practically unheard of where I work."

"He was in love with someone else." Juliet had never been as good as Ben at improvising on the spot, but she was still pretty good at. "When they announced that they'd found the wreckage of 815 two years ago, I was actually more devastated than I thought. It's not that Jack and I had been together for that long, but you know, whenever someone in our community dies, its kind of a blow. When he and the rest of the survivors were rescued, I did something out of character, and flew to Honolulu. It wasn't like some romantic quest - I've been burned in far too many relationships to see Jack as Prince Charming - but I decided that I needed to know. And in a funny way, it worked out for me."

Addison raised an eyebrow. "How?"

"That's a story for another day." Juliet told her with a small smile. "In any case, I've pretty much told you my life story. So, now answer my question: are you going to go through with this procedure?"

To her credit, Addison took a long pause before finally answering. "You know how hard it is to be the best in your field," she began slowly. "Especially if you're a woman. My parents always considered going into medicine an act of rebellion. They'd have rather I married a doctor than actually become one. So, I went to medical school. I worked my ass off in the residency program. I met a men who I honestly thought was the love of my life. We challenged each other, we helped each other through the hard stuff. And eventually, we did both become the best, him in neurosurgery, me in neonatalogy. And yet, despite everything, it didn't seem to be enough. So one day, I screwed his best friend. And we kept doing it. And one day, he caught us, and his reaction was to fly across the country. Not go to counseling, not punch his friend out. Run away. I stayed behind with Mark. I got pregnant, which had always been something I wanted. And then, I decided I didn't want it with him. So I threw away my life, and went after my husband, to find that he had shacked up with a resident. He gave me a way out, and I just didn't want to take it, because I'd already torn my life apart twice. So I blew up another relationship, and because I'm so stubborn, it took me three months to realize my husband was still in love with her."

Juliet actually knew about half of this from Jack, but she gave no outward sign of this. Sometimes, you had to let your patients just talk.

"So, naturally, now that I had no men in my life, I decided that I wanted a child. And I still do. So when Naomi told me that I had no viable eggs, I really thought that was it. I will spent the rest of my life alone, and I deserve too, because cheaters need to be punished." Addison finally looked at Juliet. "I can't believe I'm telling you all this."

"It's the white coat. It makes strangers tell their life story." Juliet smiled. "I figured you knew that by now."

"I guess I'd figured I'd be immune to it," Addison told her. "I guess what I'm saying, very badly, is that I want a child. Your procedure sounds like it is the best chance of me having one. So, how shall we proceed?"

The two spent the next half-hour going over every element that was going to be necessary for the next couple of months. Addison could do most of the procedures in Seattle, but she was going to have to see Juliet at least once a month to make sure that things were going well. In a couple of months, if they saw results, they would move on to the next phase, but again, Addison knew that was something that she was going to have to handle from her end.

"When could I get started with the workup?" Addison finally asked.

"We'll begin with the first procedures tomorrow." Juliet told her. "You know these kinds of things aren't fun, but I'll do my best to make it at painless as possible."

Again Addison hesitated. "Regardless of whatever happens, I want to thank you for doing this. I imagine you have a busy calendar, and you really don't know me from Eve."

Something in Juliet made her speak up. "For the longest time, telling somebody they were pregnant was the worst news I could give someone. I like the idea of giving good news again. Especially to a friend of Jack's."

Addison looked like she wanted to say something more, but merely said she would see her tomorrow and left.

Juliet counted to five, then took out her cell phone, and speeddialed Jack. She thought she'd done a very good job of covering everybody's ass, but she needed to talk to him in order to make sure they got their stories straight. It was going to make everybody's lives a bit more complicated, and she would've avoided to do it, but she knew it had to be done.

Because she was pretty sure as soon as she got outside, Addison would make the same call too.


	7. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

 **Warning: This chapter contains serious bashing of the Grey's residents. However, I'm trying to look at this issue from the way any _reasonable hospital_ would've looked at what happened during the first three seasons of _Grey's._ Because, let's face, even by the standards of hospitals on television, what happened to them, particularly in regard to Denny, should have happened exactly the way Jack says it should. It may not make us feel good, but it was wrong, and there should have been consequences.**

Miranda Bailey was not yet in charge of running Seattle Grace, but she knew it better than just about anyone else, maybe even more than her mentor Dr. Weber. She knew more about the professional and personal lives of everybody in the surgical program.

And she knew that the last two weeks had thrown a lot of wildness into an already chaotic hospital. Somehow, she considered at least part of what was going on with the interns to be her fault. She knew that the residents she had been training were ostensibly supposed to be in charge of keeping a watch on them, but having spent a year dealing with them, she knew the last thing that most of them were capable of was teaching, must less guiding. Still, on her worse day, she couldn't imagine Karev or Yang deciding to operate on one of the other interns for practice. And yet, somehow, Jack Shephard had caught their interns performing an appendectomy.

Heads were going to roll, and considering that crap tended to roll in the same direction, she thought there was a strong possibility that Weber was going to get fired. Instead, three days ago, Richard had called a press conference with the announcement that the Reyes foundation was sponsoring a donation of ten million dollars to the hospital, mainly to the psychiatric and ER fund.

Now, she'd had occasion to work with Hugo rather closely in the past year. Despite his cheerful, stoner-like demeanor, she knew him to be a shrewd businessman who had trouble keeping a secret. Immediately after the press conference ended, she got a hold of him. Hugo had seemed a little distracted, considering the occasion, but as soon as he saw her, he was completely honest.

"Jack told them they were coming for Richard's job," he'd told her. "He said that there'd been a lot of screwy stuff happening the last few months, and that this last thing, whatever it is, was probably going to get him thrown out on his butt. He said that a move like this would probably keep the board at bay, at least for awhile."

Jack clearly was more loyal than she'd given him credit for being, and more savvy - had he told Hurley what had really happened, there was a very real possibility every local affiliate would be on them in minutes. "And you just gave the hospital the money?"

"Honestly, I was thinking doing something like this on a larger scale in a few months," he admitted, "but considering my relationship with the hospital, I figured this would work on a smaller scale."

Anyone else, she would have considered this bull. But she knew Hurley cared less about money than just about anybody she knew. "Well, I don't want to seem ungrateful, but you know as well as I do that money won't solve the problems."

"Oh, I totally know that," Hurley told her. "Which is why Jack said he was going to have a conversation with you about it in the next few days. Said it was like hospital stuff that I'm better off not knowing."

"If it's so urgent, why not tell me about it now?" Miranda asked.

Hurley looked at her like she'd grown a second head. "Cause tomorrow's visiting day."

Miranda didn't question that. One of the things she admired about Jack, especially considering how fragile her marriage seemed to be right now, was how loyal he was to the woman he loved. She did, however, have a different question. "What makes you so sure we can fix what's broken?"

"Because acting in a crisis is what Jack does best," Hurley told her. "And handling people at this hospital is what you do best."

Jack had told Miranda a couple of times that Hurley was far better a leader than he let other people believe. But he also had a great deal of skill at seeing other people's strengths. And like she said, he was incapable of telling a lie.

So, when Jack approached her the next day, and asked if she'd meet him for a cup of coffee at a small shop that most of the doctors at the hospital _didn't_ frequent, she didn't have to think five seconds before saying yes.

"How are things going with Tucker?" Jack asked.

"Fine," Miranda said automatically.

"Miranda. I know how tough it is keeping the best marriage alive with this kind of job." Jack told her.

Miranda actually had the grace to look ashamed. "I feel sometimes like I'm walking a minefield. Even when I know I've stepped on a safe space, it still feels dangerous to move."

"I wish I could give some good advice on that end," Jack told her. "But it was the opposite with my marriage. I ignored the fault signs for so long that by the time I saw the danger, it was too late." Jack shrugged. "I guess you have to keep going the bets you can."

"I'm glad you asked, Jack," Miranda told him. "Almost nobody in the hospital except for Weber and Addison do."

"Not that they're role models for Spouse of the Year either."

"What I mean is, you didn't bring me to a coffee place where nobody in the hospital goes just to grill me on the State of my Union." There was Bailey. "Now what's really on your mind?"

Miranda always was direct. "Hurley gave you my message."

"Thank you for having the good sense not to tell him about - the incident," Miranda said cagily. "Last thing we need is another strike against the hospital."

"That's why I wanted to speak to you." Jack gathered his thought. "After what happened, I had a long conversation with Richard. He told me about the battle for his job that happened about a month before I joined the staff."

"It did get ugly," she admitted. "Every doctor and his brother showed up angling for Richard's job. I was kind of shocked that after all that fighting, he ended up changing his mind." A light bulb went off. "Is he thinking about retiring again?"

"Not voluntarily," Jack told her. "But given the chaos that's been going on the last couple of months, I kind of figured it was a matter of time before the board said: leave or get pushed."

'So you arranged this with Hurley," Miranda shook her head. "I wish I had friends like him."

"Technically, you do." Jack told him. "He's made it very clear in all the talks we have how impressed he was with you setting up the clinic. Trust me, if Hurley likes you, you've made a friend for life. Besides, he was talking about doing something like this for a few months. I just got him to pull the trigger a little faster."

Now Miranda was looking at him funny. "Does this mean you're now angling for chief of staff?"

Jack actually laughed at this. "You're the second person in a week to ask me that question. And I'm going to give you the same answer. I've had enough of leadership to last me a lifetime. The last thing I want is to make it a career."

Miranda seemed a little perplexed by this. "You do know, given everything you've done for the hospital in the past year, you'd probably just have to ask to get the job."

Jack looked at her. "I wasn't a very good leader after the plane crash. First of all, I didn't really want the job. I kind of backed into it, my decisions were questioned every step of the way, I was wrong more often than I was right - and as a result, a lot of good people died. And to tell you the truth, I probably shouldn't have been the leader of the group. There were other survivors who were at least as qualified as me, and almost certainly had a better temperament for it."

Miranda looked at him. "I find that hard to believe."

"The night the plane crashed, you know the first thing Hurley did. He found the container that had the airplane food, and gave it out to the survivor. He asked everybody what we should about the bodies of those who hadn't made it. When everybody started getting depressed by how bad things were going, he found a set of golf clubs, and created a makeshift course."

Miranda managed to contain her surprise. "You're joking?"

"I won the first ever Island Open. No surprise." Jack turned serious. "Hurley would've made a great leader. You can see that now. But it wasn't in his demeanor to lead. He was just good at helping people, and that's what he did. Hell, its what he does now."

Miranda shook her head. "Anyone else I know?"

"There was someone else who was even more qualified than I was. One of the things we recovered on the second day was the transceiver for the plane." Miranda looked a little blank. "Pilots use it to send out an emergency distress call. Sayid managed to fix it, then he led an expedition to higher ground with a few other people to say if they could get a reception." Jack was quiet for a moment. "I had to stay behind to treat the wounded. He led them back the next day, mainly because the signal was weak. Then he gave a speech of his own, in which he organized people into rationing food, water and electronics. A few days later, I had the same ideas. Guess why they listened to me and not him?"

"Because Sayid was Iraqi?"

"More like because he was from the Republican Guard. He'd left them more than a decade earlier, but that didn't count." Jack actually seemed a little pissed at this. "You'd think on a deserted island, prejudice would matter less than surviving. I guess people are alike everywhere."

"Color me shocked." Miranda hesitated. "Still, I gotta say, for someone who's saying he doesn't want to be a leader again, you're sure doing a lot of things that could be viewed that way."

"I know that it looks that way. But like I said, I don't want to run this hospital. However, as you can tell, I've gotten a lot better at recognizing leadership qualities in other people. Which means that I'm more than capable of knowing who the best person to do it is."

Now Jack paused. Miranda got the message. "Well, you're not the first person to tell me that I'd make a good chief. Weber said that I was his choice when the search committee started its work the first time, and he said something similar a few months ago. But I've only been an attending for a year. Even he used all the pull he had left, there's no way the board would go for it."

"Like I said, I don't want to Richard to retire. Yet." Now that he was here, Jack wasn't entirely sure how to get his message out. "What I want is for Richard to keep his job for at least the next three years. By that time, with his support - and mine, at least - I think you can have the job if you want it."

It was very rare that Miranda Bailey was left speechless. Most of the attendings respected her, but she knew that even Addison would throw her to wolves if she could get chief of staff. Now Jack seemed willing to hitch his star to hers. "What's the catch?" she asked.

"This is where it gets slippery," he admitted. "Granted, I've only been in that his hospital a year and a half, but as far as I can tell, you meet nearly every qualification that the board would need to give you the job. You are an excellent surgeon. You have the capability to organize and carry out radical and difficult procedures. You're very good at raising money and staff for outside projects. You have a great rapport with patients. And you are a great teacher. There's only one real area where you are going to have a problem."

"This has to do with Denny," Miranda told her.

"There's a very good chance it's going to come back and bite Seattle Grace in the ass." Jack then told Miranda about the conversation he'd had with Erica Hahn before she'd left.

For understandable reason, Miranda was reeling. "How bad do you think it'll get?"

"I probably talked her out of going to the disciplinary board. But considering how pissed she was - and let's be honest, she had every right to be - Erica might go through with it anyway. Even if she doesn't, there's a very good chance her patient - or, just as likely, his estate - will hit Seattle Grace with an eight-figure lawsuit."

Miranda put her head in her hands. "Did you tell Richard?"

"I didn't have to. Hahn knew about what happened to Duquette. She went to Richard with it before she resigned." Jack gave a deep sigh. "He'll probably know before we do. "

"Crap." Bailey knew that a lot of bad questions were probably headed her way.

Jack asked one of them. "Miranda, did you know that Stevens was in love with Duquette?"

"I knew something was going on between them. Denny was one of my favorite patients. I thought Stevens was just friends with him, and I was distracted by dealing with my son." Miranda raised her head from her hands. "I know that doesn't excuse it-"

"Excuse it? Miranda, I'm the last person who should give a lecture about having a patient fall in love with you, but at least I wasn't the primary caregiver. The minute you even suspected something, you should've hauled Stevens off." Jack took a breath. "But that part isn't your fault."

"What is?"

Jack told her. It didn't take long. Miranda had to think about it for a couple of minutes. "I thought you said I was a good teacher."

"And you are. Surgically. But ethically, this hospital has been operating in an area so murky that only the blind could call it clear." Jack told her. "Part of it was the fault of people like Derek and Mark. But that's the real problem with this hospital. And its because of things like that that Yang can lie about the consequences of Preston Burke's hands after surgery and our interns can decide to perform appendectomies on themselves."

"You're telling me there were no problems like that at St. Sebastian?"

"I'm not going to deny that. We had sloppy procedures there all the time. My father did a lot of them. " He swallowed at the memory. "Still doesn't make it right."

Miranda thought about this again. "Assuming I agree with you, what can we do to fix it?"

"There's a lot of dry rot here. But I want to at least try something. Maybe it won't work, and I'll have burnt a lot of bridges here. But if Seattle Grace is to have a future, we have to deal with the present and right now. And that means putting the fear of God into the second years just like I tried to do with our interns."

"They're surgeons, Jack. They think they are God." Miranda joked.

"I know." Jack wasn't smiling. "That's why this'll work."

Jack had never been big on the surprise attack. In retrospect, it was probably why the Others had run roughshod over him most of his time on the island.. But, if nothing else, he could see that it worked. And he'd been preparing for something like this for quite a few months.

So, the next day, he had the five residents in the program paged to the hospital board room. He knew that Weber had promised to reveal who would get the solo surgery today, and that all of them had no doubt figured they got it. He really hoped that this would be the least of the disappointments they got today.

They all managed to arrive within a minute of each other. All of them seemed to be pushing to get into the room first. As was her want, Yang managed to somehow get inside ahead of everybody else.

"Where is everybody?" she demanded. Typical.

"You're only going to being meeting with me today," Jack said slowly. "Trust me, you really don't want there to be an audience for this."

Anybody else in the hospital would have taken the note in Jack's voice, and would've known they were in deep shit. Only O'Malley seemed to realize that something was wrong. Meredith was puzzled. Yang and Karev were annoyed. Stevens seemed distracted, as if she'd been pulled away from something more important.

"If this is about what the interns did last week, we've already dealt with it," Karev said.

"Actually, Weber and I dealt with it. We shouldn't have had to. They were your responsibility. You should have at least been aware your interns had decided to play 'Operation' on themselves."

Meredith and George at least had the decency to look ashamed at this. If anything, Christina was looking even angrier. "We handled it. They've been punished."

"What are their names, Yang?" Jack's tone got a little sterner. "Please tell me you've at least bothered to learn the names of the people who look to you for guidance."

Karev shot Christina a 'look-who-pissed-off-teacher' glance. "Wipe that grin off your face, Karev. Believe or not, the intern's decisions to start cutting on themselves is actually the least of your problems right now."

He finally had all of their attention. "Dr. Weber is in a lot of trouble because of what happened last week. And if this were an isolated incident, my guess is he'd been inclined to just wipe it from the board." Jack finally stood up. "He's a good man. A forgiving man. And its probably going to cost him his job."

Now they all genuinely looked worried. Jack was pretty sure that, at least as far as Meredith and George went, the concern was for Richard and not for themselves. He'd been a good teacher to all of them, and had backed them in the past. "They're going to fire him?" Meredith asked.

"Not now. More likely, he'll probably have to retire sooner than he wants. The sad thing is, if he were as ruthless as his fellow attendings, he could probably save himself. You know why he won't?"

None of them seemed to have put it together yet. Jack wasn't going to give them the chance to stall. "Because he's convinced himself that you're worth the effort. He believes that the five of you are the future of Seattle Grace. And if you are, we are all well and truly screwed."

Now Yang and Karev were starting to get angry. "Where- where do you get off on this?" Karev demanded. "You've only been here a year. You don't know half of what's going on."

Karev had just thrown a fat pitch right down the middle. And like A-Rod, he was going to take it downtown.

"Really?" Jack said. "Then let's pretend the boards are tomorrow, and review." He looked dead at Meredith. "Dr. Grey, I believe the night before your residency began, you had a one-night stand with the neurosurgeon who turned out to be one of your attendings?"

Meredith, to her credit, didn't flinch. "I didn't know who he was at the time."

"And yet when you found out, you started an affair with him. One that has been going on and off and on and off for two years."

"Who I sleep with is none of your business."

"No, but the fact that you've turned your specialty into neuro, the fact that you've been part of numerous surgeries of his, is exactly the kind of ethical behavior that the AMA frowns upon." Jack had actually been fairly pissed about this for awhile. "Isn't there any other neurosurgeon in this hospital you could be studying under? Or were just hoping that Weber would keep looking the other way until you became an attending?"

"Weber understands the situation," Meredith was still trying to defend herself..

"And maybe that'll work. As long as he's still on staff. But fine, we'll put a pin in that for now." He focused his glare on Christina. "You knew who your attending was when you slept with him. It's going to be a lot harder to excuse that one."

Yang didn't flinch either. "Burke went to Bailey with that. He was totally above board."

"Oh, that's a problem. It's not _the_ problem." Jack paused. "When Burke got shot, he experienced tremors in his hand afterwards. Now, that could have been handled easily. But for two months, you acted as his hands in every surgery he scrubbed in on. "

"We didn't lose a patient on any of those surgeries."

The gall of this woman. "Yes, but it led to Richard offering him the position of chief of staff. I am pretty sure that constitutes fraud."

Yang at least had the sense to drop her eyes. "I told everybody what happened."

"When you couldn't hide it any longer. Tell me, Yang. Did you do it because it was the right thing for Burke? Or because you were afraid of how it might fall back on you? It couldn't have been because you were ashamed, because I was in the room, when you tried to argued that you deserved better treatment from us _because_ of your work as - if I may quote you - as 'Burke's hand'?" Jack still couldn't believe she'd said that. "You sure you're not a guy, because that took quite a set."

For the first time since he'd known her, Christina Yang was completely at a loss. Rather than give her a chance to recover, he looked at Karev. "I've never been exactly thrilled at the way you stick your little meat thermometer in just about everything in this hospital with two legs, but hell, Sloan's been doing it for just as long, so I can't prosecute you for that. What is a problem is that last, while a patient was recovering from a severe trauma that took off most of her face, you began a relationship with her."

Karev was getting indignant. "It was never sexual, and she went back to her husband."

"Yes, but four months after that, she returned to Seattle, moved in with you, said she was pregnant - which turned out to be a lie - and attempted suicide. None of which, by the way, you felt required to report to your attending."

This was borderline unethical, but it was also the only area where Jack felt something like a hypocrite. After all, he'd carried on the exact same behavior with Sarah over a period of six months before they'd gotten married. Had Karev known that, he could have easily called bullshit. The fact that he remained quiet was a sign that the young doctor really was traumatized.

"But really, all of these ethical slips and sexual affairs, are frankly irrelevant, because even if I were set all of them aside, none of you should be here dealing with them."

Now he looked at Stevens, who had to know this was coming. For some reason, though, her eyes were focused on another corner of the room, almost as if she wasn't paying any attention at all.

"Thirteen months ago, the five of you conspired to defraud the UNOS system in order to get a heart for Denny Duquette." Stevens winced a little, but continued to look elsewhere. "This fraud, resulted in the death of a patient, and has since forced the man who would have received his heart to keep waiting for another year. That's the main reason Hahn resigned, in case any of you cared."

If he didn't have Stevens attention, he sure as hell had everybody else's. "All of you should've lost your jobs, your licenses to practice medicine, and depending on how far certain people would press it, facing prison time. Remind me again. How did Weber punish you?'

There was a long, awkward silence. Jack made no attempt to fill it. He wanted them to tell him. Finally George, the only one he hadn't castigated yet, spoke up. "He had us throw a prom for his niece."

Jack just let it sink in. "Richard is a good man. And he knew that if any of this got out, Seattle Grace would have probably had to close its doors. That's the real reason he let you skate. I don't know why he decided to give you a second chance, Stevens. Particularly considering that you received nearly nine million dollars from Duquette's estate less than a month after he died."

Stevens finally spoke up for the first time since she had entered the room. "I didn't keep the money."

"Yes, you used it to finance a free clinic. Maybe you thought you were doing a good thing, but if an outsider were to look at it, there's an excellent chance that they might see it as a quid pro quo. Seattle Grace gets a hefty cash donation, you get your job back, and all's right with the world." Jack fixed her with a look. "Can you imagine what's going to happen if a decent civil attorney were get a look at this?"

From the look on Izzie's face, it was clear the idea had never even occurred to her. These were people who'd had four years of college before medical school. They were either incredibly naive or just too focused to even consider the alternative. Jack didn't know which possibility was more frightening.

"I've tried to maintain a neutral opinion of all of you. I know how hard it is to be a resident. But if we dropped to twelfth place two months ago, I have to consider the possibility that it's at least partially on the five of you. And if what happened last week is a reflection of your teaching abilities, Seattle Grace is royally screwed."

Most of them at least had the good sense to look a little ashamed at this. Except Yang, of course. "You weren't here. You're not in charge of us. What are you going to do about it?"

For the last year, Jack had been trying really hard to get a handle on his self-righteous attitude towards, well, basically everybody. He'd forgotten that, particularly among other surgeons, he was a novice at it. He did, however, have an ace up his sleeve.

"None of you are curious why I'm tearing you new assholes instead of Bailey or Weber?" he asked slowly.

George got it first. "Um, Christina."

"Yesterday afternoon, with Weber's permission and Miranda's blessing, I have become your advisory resident. The solo surgery has been postponed until further notice. The five of you are under probation for as long as it takes for you to become decent physicians."

"We're in the middle of our second years," Karev didn't know when to shut up some times.

"Yes, surgical residents. Though I'm sure you've convinced yourself otherwise, the two are not one and the same." Jack looked at them. "Most of you have the bedside manners of Gila monsters, unless of course, you decide to sleep with your patients. You're lousy at filing your paperwork, you leave trauma patients as soon you decide its not a major case, and we've already discussed how woefully inadequate you are as teachers. However, you are competent surgeons, decent at clinical work, and as far as I can tell, you have reached the absolute limits of your natural abilities."

Jack had managed a true accomplishment. He had gotten the surgical residents to shut up.

"For the next month, you're going to devote yourselves to becoming healers. You're going to be doing clinical work, as many shifts in the ER as I can arrange, and if your interns have a problem, they go to you first, second and always." Now he looked Christina dead in the face. "That means more than giving them numbers. When I think you've learned a modicum of what takes to be a doctor - not a surgeon, a doctor - then you'll get back in the OR. Of course, if your interns pester you to attend a surgery, you will be more willing to let them."

"Oh, one more thing. Then I will shut up. Some of you will no doubt be tempted to run to attendings you have become -" he paused deliberately "close to, and tell them to go over my head. Before you that, please remember Weber and Bailey have signed off on this, and that should they try to go over their heads, remind them that they are in, ethically questionable positions. I don't want to damage the careers of my fellow attendings - you've done a fine job of that on your own - so you might want to consider what's best for the hospital. For once."

Jack knew that there's was a very good chance he was exceeding his authority - this may have been a lot further than even Bailey had been willing to go. Besides that, he liked Derek and Addison. They were probably going to see this as making a power play of his own But this was about more than bruised egos and damaged relationships. Seattle Grace was in trouble. Now he knew damn well, he couldn't fix a lot of the problems with the hospital, but _somebody_ had to do something to hold in check these residents. And since no one seemed willing to do anything, he had to try. After all, he was still regarded by quite a few people as an outsider. Besides, people respected Miranda Bailey, and they still called her 'the Nazi'.

As it was, the residents remained absolutely frozen for a few seconds. "What are you still doing here?" he demanded. "I did my homework. You each have an average of two days of charts to get finished up with. You'd better hurry, if any of you want to have a chance at actually seeing patients this week."

The five of them left the room without so much as a word. He had a feeling that was just for his benefit, and they'd start bitching about it the minute they got out of earshot. Jack didn't care.

He was back in a leadership position, albeit a modified one, and this was the first decision in awhile he'd felt confident about making


	8. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Hurley had handled a lot of things since coming back to civilization that he was proud of. Even without counting the recent donations, his foundation was running like clockwork. His next major project was going to involve a World Hunger Initiative, which was, actually, one of the endeavors he was more qualified to run.

On a more personal level, he'd found out who Libby was - which had taken more work, considering he'd never even known her last name - and helped make contact with her family. He still wasn't sure how to tell them about what had happened on the island, so he told a lesser truth - that he'd known her from Santa Rosa, and she'd helped him through a difficult time in his life. Walt was also doing a lot better, and he was waking up from nightmares far less frequently.

There was, however, one bit of island business that he still felt that he - hell, the entire group - should find a way to deal with him. But based on what little he learned, this wasn't a situation that could be handled with goodwill. It was going to take cunning and subterfuge, things that he had never been good with. However, he knew very well that many of his other friends were far more capable of it than he ever could be.

Hurley also knew that, even if it was done perfectly well, it would still be extremely dangerous. This was not something he had liked when he was on the island, and he didn't exactly feel wild about the idea of doing it on dry land. But they owed their return to them, and frankly he missed them.

So, when they got together that Christmas, he decided that, despite his desire not to rain on the holiday, this would probably be the best occasion to try and brainstorm out some kind of plan.

He did his best to try and make sure everything went okay before then. They had dinner, watched a bunch of Christmas movies, and exchanged gifts. Then, in the middle of the afternoon, he gathered all of them - save for Nadia and Walt - got his mother to watch Aaron and Ji Yeon, and told them they needed to speak.

"You're kind of serious, Big Guy." Ever since they'd become friends, Sawyer's nicknames for Hurley had become far less insulting.

"I really didn't want to do this at Christmas," he admitted reluctantly, "but you know, it's kind of appropriate. It's been nearly two years since we got rescued, and really, we've dealt with just about everything. But it's been like, a year, since we last saw them, and I kinda figured, they'd probably want to celebrate the holidays too."

Claire got it first. "You're talking about Desmond and Penny."

Desmond had been in a bad situation ever since they had been rescued. He had told them that he had ended up on the island almost entirely due to his effort to win Charles Widmore's approval. Charles had despised his daughter's love for Penny, and his disdain had been the reason that he decided to win a race around the world that his foundation was sponsoring. That had lead to a shipwreck, which had led him to hatch, and so on. What they hadn't known when Penny had come to rescue them was that Widmore had somehow known, and had sent his own ship to try and get there. Penny had reached them a matter of days before Charles Widmore's mercenaries had descended on it. None of them had wanted to think what would've happened if they hadn't gotten off when they had.

But the problems had magnified. Part of their instruction had been to terminate anyone on the island who got in their way. Desmond and Penny had done their part in their rescue, but the cost was they neither could ever set foot on their native soil ever again. Hurley had made multiple offers to try and help them, but the most that either was willing to do was provide a scrambled email for them to make contact with. Hurley had maintained communications sporadically with them ever since - it was how he'd passed on to Desmond news about Carole Littleton's surgery - but that had been the only time that they'd seen either one of them.

"I talked to them a couple of days ago." Hurley swallowed. "Charlie celebrated his first birthday last month. Now, Des and Penny may be fine spending the rest of their lives on a boat, but that's no way to raise a child."

"I don't know, Hugo," James was serious for a change. "You got two parents who love you, that's pretty much all you need. Think we can all testify to that."

There was a certain truth that Hurley couldn't argue with. Nevertheless: "They saved us. All of us. If it wasn't for them, we might still be on that island instead of having Christmas dinner together."

"I agree with you that what is going on with Desmond and Penelope is truly unfair." Sayid spoke up. "And while I would be more than willing to them, I am not sure what we could do to rectify the situation. We are all aware of what her father is capable of."

"That's why I figured we should this while we're altogether," Hurley pressed on. "We have skills. There must be something we can do to change Mr. Widmore's mind."

"His own daughter can't change his mind," James pointed out. "I doubt we could just could talk the man out of it. And considering how rich the man is, I don't think a bribe would do much, even if it we pooled our resources."

Hurley didn't like what James was implying, even though he was very aware that it was probably going to have to come to that. He didn't like violence, hell, he still fainted at the sight of blood. And inflicting it on anyone, even somebody as pure Palpatine as Charles Widmore was didn't set well with him.

"Isn't there, like, some way we can expose what he did?" he asked the others. "I mean, he did fake a plane crash in the middle of the Pacific. And I don't even want to think what he had to do to get that many dead bodies to fill it up with. There's gotta be some kind of crime."

"And how exactly do you plan to expose it without revealing everything we've done since we came back?" Juliet pointed out. "We've finally gotten out from under the glare of the press bothering us every time we get together. We do anything on this level - and considering how big Widmore Industries is, it would be pretty damn big - we open up a whole new can of worms."

Hurley turned to the person who everybody would listen to, even if he had called this meeting. "Come on, Jack. Am I wrong?"

Everybody, almost as a reflex, turned to Jack. He took a long time before answering. He finally nodded. "I owe Desmond more than you can ever imagine," he finally said. "And I'd like nothing more than to celebrate next Christmas with him and Penny at the table. So, if anyone has an idea on how we could it, I'm more than willing to listen. But you should know right now, that I'm going to be taking my cue from Hurley."

Hurley winced a little. "Dude, you know leadership isn't my strong suit."

"Hurley, I've been watching you for the last two years. Helping people is exactly what you do best," Jack said candidly. "And honestly, you did a better job at that on the island than I did. Sure, I may have gotten the credit for getting us rescued, but that was a team effort, and you did a better job than anyone at keeping us afloat."

That may have been the single nicest thing Jack had ever said about anybody. It was typical of who Hurley was that his initial response was to try and shrug it off. "Well, thanks a lot, Jack, but that doesn't change the fact that don't have any idea how to even approach Widmore."

"Course you don't, Hugo," James told him. "You're just too honest for your own good. Don't get me wrong, in most cases that ain't exactly a character flaw. But for what we're going to have to do just to get to this guy Widmore, I don't think you have the personality for it."

"But you do." Sayid said

A grin crossed James' face. "Hey, everybody's got a skill. Doc's a top notch spinal surgeon. Juliet's a great fertility specialist. Big Kahuna's good at helping people. You're good in getting through failures to communicate. And my gift, is conning people. And Charles Widmore's, he deserves to get fleeced."

"No one's disagreeing with you on that point, James," Sayid told him. "But the first thing you'd have to do is get close to him. And there's no way a man like Widmore wouldn't be able to see any of us coming."

"He's right," Jack told him. "He's probably got all our names and faces memorized. And considering how much security the man has, we'd be lucky to get to the front door."

Hurley expected James to snarl. Strangely enough, he didn't. "That's not the kind of plan I'd had in mind. We'd have to Wiseguy this bastard. "

Sometimes, it could be difficult to get some of Sawyer's cultural references. Jack got it first. "You mean plant an informant, and get him inside Widmore's company?"

"I knew I wasn't the only one who loved that show growing up," Sawyer told him. "Vinnie Terranova, the king of the government long con. " He looked at Hugo. "I'd have given you the DVDs, but apparently that show's not out yet."

"What's your point?"

"My point is, in order to bring down Charles Widmore, we have to place someone inside his company, have him work his way in until he gets the information, and than find a way to best use it." James told them. "Now, the good news, we've got the money for this kind of operation. Hell, I could probably work it for a few months just operating on my own funds."

"Don't be ridiculous, James, you know we'd contribute," Claire told him.

"Glad to hear it Mamacita, but if I had to guess is, Big Guy would be the one I came to first," James looked at Hurley. "After all, it's your idea."

This was probably a given in this case. All of them were millionaires, but Hurley had had more money for a longer period. And even if James hadn't raced the idea, he probably would've put up the money anyway.

"Money is one thing, but we'd still need to use somebody trustworthy who could get inside the operation," Sayid pointed out.

"You're talking about some kind of con man or gun for hire," James countered. "And I've trafficked in that world for long enough that I know quite a few players." He frowned. "Course, I also burnt a lot of bridges even before I came to the island. Can't be someone I did business..." He trailed off.

"James." Juliet asked.

"I think I know somebody who might do it," James sounded thoughtful for once. "After I got out of prison, I worked a couple of jobs out in San Diego. I met a guy who was running a different kind of operation. Miles something, Strand, Stratton, maybe."

"What kind of con did he do?" Jack asked.

"You know that show, _Ghost Whisperer,_ Jennifer Hewitt, plays this housewife who can talk to the dead?"

Even given everything that they'd gone through when they'd been on the island, they were all a little incredulous at this particular scheme. With one exception. "You don't think there's any chance he was for real?" Claire asked.

"He didn't take it seriously, so I figured it was just hippie-dippy bullshit," James told her. "There was one weird thing about it, though. Kind of cons I ran, big money stuff, usually hundreds of thousands of dollars. Miles, he never asked for more than a few hundred each time he talked with the dead."

"It might have been more of a short-term thing," Sayid told him. "You have to figure it would have a wider audience than the kinds Sawyer did."

"It's what I figured too." James admitted. "But given everything that we've seen, who knows? Maybe he was the real thing. " He snapped his fingers. "Straume! That was his last name."

"And what makes you think he's the right man for our purposes?" Sayid was taking on his old position as field general.

"He's a con man, so right away, he's a born liar. Given the type of con he did, he can play to people's heartstrings. And he'd be willing to stick to any story and do anything if we offered him enough money." James pointed out. "Am I crazy or is that exact kind of employee Charles Widmore wants working for him?"

"Do you know how to get in touch with him?" Jack asked. "I mean, its been what, five years since you even talked with him? He may not even be in California any more. Hell, he might be in jail himself."

"Miles was strictly small-time," James told them. "Those aren't the kind the cops traditionally go after unless they really piss the wrong person off. But you're right, he might have moved on to greener pastures.' He looked at Hurley. "You still have the PIs who tracked down Mike and the kid?"

Hurley nodded, and took a pen and paper. "I'm gonna need more than a name."

James did some thinking. "He was in his mid-twenties when I saw him last. I know the guy was Asian, but I'm not sure where on that scale it was. In any case, the guy told me he was from Encino. Black hair and a goatee, but not as significant as mine." He looked around. "Maybe three, four inches taller than Jin. You think that's enough for a start?"

Hurley had been writing this down. "And if the guy is in prison?"

"Cross that bridge when we come to it," James told him. "What the hell, while you're at it, check the Yellow Pages. Lot of guys who run that kind of scam _do_ advertise. Makes it looks legit."

Jack had been considering this. "All right, say this Miles is our guy. But how exactly do you think you get him inside Widmore's company? It's not going to be as easy as walking up and filling in an application."

"A con this elaborate needs someone who is willing to back it up. We need someone who will provide him with the kind of... shady reputation that would appeal to Widmore's people." Now James actually looked a little ashamed at what he was about to say. "And fortunately, we know somebody who might be able to provide them with just that kind of story."

It took a few seconds for this to truly sink in. Then Jin and Sun launched into a heated conversation in Korean. The two of them now spoke almost entirely in English all the time. So the fact that they had reverted back to their native tongue meant that they were discussing something they really didn't want their friends to know about.

"And we're back in the bad old days," Hurley muttered. By now, he actually understood a little Korean, but the Kwons were speaking so fast, he could only understand a word out of every ten. From what he could tell, Jin didn't seem to be admonishing Sun the way much of their earlier conversations seemed to have gone. His tone sounded like he was begging.

Finally, after about three minutes of this, Jin began speaking in English. "You have no idea what kind of man Sun's father was," he began slowly. "I agreed to work for him in order to marry Sun. After a few months, I began to realize just how dangerous he was."

"You don't have to tell us this, Jin," Claire said gently. "We all saw the stories that were on TV after we were rescued."

"You have to understand," Jin looked at his wife, who nodded. "After two years, both of us were at the end of our ropes. Sun was planning to make a run for it at the airport the day we got on the plane. What she didn't know was that I was planning to make a break too. The only difference was, I was planning to take her with me." He swallowed.. "Before we got on the plane, I went to the bathroom. A man followed me into the airport. He told me he knew what I was planning, and told me not to do anything else." He took his wife's hand. "That's why I was so cold to you at first. I thought there was no escape."

Sun nodded. Claire thought that she was still holding something back, but didn't want to share it. "My father is a dangerous man. Even after everything that happened, it took a huge amount of effort for us to break free of him. Jin and I understand more than any of you what Penny and Desmond are going through. I think we need to know what exactly you're asking of us."

James had gotten close to Jin the last couple of months they were on the island - the incident with the destruction of the raft had sort of cemented an unlikely bond. (It probably helped that Jin hadn't been able to understand the majority of his nicknames). And he'd managed to make peace with Sun for everything that he'd done to her on the island. The old Sawyer wouldn't have thought twice about putting them into harm's way regardless. But he wasn't that man anymore.

"I've had to deal with some pretty big players when I was a con man," he said slowly. "And you guys know the kind of monster Ben Linus was. The last thing I want is for either of you to end up pinned between two... businessmen. Maybe there's an easier way."

Jack had been mostly silent through all this. To say that scheming had never been his strong suit was the understatement of the year. He'd always worn his emotions on his sleeve. But suddenly an idea occurred to him. "Why do you want to use Paik Automotive as a cover?" he asked James. "If Widmore's as smart as you think he is, won't he make the leap pretty fast about our involvement?"

"Yeah, if Widmore was a storefront. But last I checked, it's a multi-billion dollar corporation. I seriously doubt the man checks every employee roster. Even then, he might be suspicious if you or I ended up on his front stoop even with an alias." James frowned. "Then again, maybe I'm going about this the wrong way."

"What are you thinking?" Hurley asked.

"I know that Widmore has businesses throughout the U.S." James told them. "There isn't any chance that Paik and Associates has any connections in America?"

Now Jin frowned. "He has business dealings here in Los Angeles. That's the whole reason we were heading here in the first place."

"Then there may be a workaround. Either of you remember who that person was?" He looked at both of the Kwons.

There was a longer hesitation. "Tzi Ma," Sun finally said. "He was a security officer with the Chinese Consulate. My father did a lot of business with their connections here."

Jin looked at her for a couple of seconds, then he shrugged it off. He knew that his wife had always paid attention to these kinds of things, even when people thought she hadn't. "How does that help us?"

"I'm not sure yet." Everyone had a surprised look on their face when James said this "I ain't Hannibal Smith, I can't just pull a fully-formed plan out of my ass."

"Dude, you were doing fine until just now," Hurley told him

"You gotta understand, when you're going at a mark, there are two ways to do it. One is the short term way, where you just try to do things quickly. Long con's take a lot of work. Either way, you need to _plan._ Now, I got the seeds of one. And we got the dough to handle it. We may even have a man who can do it. Problem is, that's just the early stages. We're gonna need details and information. More than we can just get off the Internet." Sawyer told him.

Sayid nodded. Even given everything that had happened on the island, it had been unlikely that these two would have ever gotten along, much less agreed. "It's going to take a lot of work. But I believe we have the beginnings of a strategy. We'll need to work this out in phases. Step one is locating someone who'll do the job. So lets try and locate this Miles Straume, and if necessary, find a fallback position."

Hurley was glad to see his idea had backers. "You know, maybe Kate knows someone who could help -."

"Absolutely not!" James said rapidly. "Look, if Kate were in the room with us, then I'd be the first to ask her. But.. how long until she gets out?"

Hurley thought. Considering that Kate was being - of all things - a model prisoner, her attorney thought he might be able to negotiate a work release program for her. Still, that was a few months out. "Not for at least another six months."

"Speaking as someone who was extremely lucky to get out of a far worse prison than the one Freckles is in, she can't even know what were planning yet," James told them. "She even gets a whisper about this, they could throw her in a much nastier hole for a lot longer."

Even though Jack's first instinct had always been to protect Kate, he knew from past experience just how much she hated being kept in the dark. "You don't even think we can write for her?"

"It may be Club Fed, but my guess is she's only the second person to read our incoming mail." James argued.

"For once I'm in total agreement with James," Sayid told them. "Even hinting at this to her could violate the conditions of her parole."

Jack's look of discomfort must have been obvious because James spoke up. "I don't like the idea of lying to Freckles any more than you do, Doc. But unless we play this right, we're on the verge of what could be considered a criminal conspiracy. We'll tell her as soon as we can, but for her sake, we got keep it on the down-low."

"In fact, I think we have to agree right now that the details of we're discussing don't go any further Desmond, Penny and the people in this room." Sayid looked at Hurley. "If your parents ask, tell them we're trying to help them. Don't go into details."

"Dude, we haven't discussed any details," Hurley pointed out. "But okay. I'll vague it up."

Hurley had been the one with the biggest problem about the lie they had told to the world. He'd managed to deal because he had shared the details with his family. This, he had less of a problem with. If it allowed the people who'd rescued him to return the world, he could live with it.

Jack, however, still looked doubtful. Sawyer, just as he'd been able to do on the island so often, could read him pretty well. "You had no trouble withholding the truth when you _thought_ you were protecting her, Doc. This time you actually are."

Jack slowly nodded. "All right. This may be one trek that I may not be able to give anything _but_ moral support. So, be careful."

Juliet had been relatively quiet about all this, even though this could seriously endanger the man she loved. "I just need all of you to promise me one thing, and then I'll go along with this."

"Name it."

"No one else dies. I had enough of that when I was in that hell, and I don't want it to follow us back to the mainland. I'm not naive," she said before Sayid or James could speak. "I know what Charles Widmore was planning to do before we left, and I have every idea how ruthless he could be. I realize there may be casualties, but we're not going to cause them. Cause given everything that happened, we have too much blood on our hands."

Sayid, who probably had the most blood of all on them, considered this for a moment. "People may die, Juliet. There's almost certainly going to be some kind of violence involved here. And once this begins, there's only so much control we're going to have over events."

James looked off into the horizon. Everybody in the room knew he was almost certainly thinking of his parents. "Miles wasn't no killer. My guess is he still ain't. And we'll try to do this as neatly as we can. But Sayid's right. Something like this gets started, there's probably going to be some collateral damage, even if it goes perfectly." He looked at Hurley. "You want to back out, now would be the time to say so."

 _If these are the kinds of decisions Jack had to make, no wonder he didn't want to be leader._ Sawyer wasn't telling him anything he hadn't suspected would come up, but now that the decision was here... "You know the way we ran things on the island?" he said finally. "Jack would make a decision, we'd all disagree with it, and then he'd do it anyway." Even Jack smiled at this remark. "It got us all rescued, but most of the time it was going on, I think even he was unhappy with it."

"You're not wrong."

"This is important. So I think we all need to agree on it. We're gonna vote. If there's someone who thinks this is too dangerous for us to do, we'll find another way. But if we all agree," he looked at Sawyer. "We'll get started figuring out the next steps."

He looked to Claire first. She hadn't contributed much to the debate, but Hurley hadn't been lying when he'd told Sawyer two years how influential she was among them. And given how benevolent she was, he really thought she would be the strongest opposition to the idea.

"I got to raise my child in the real world because of Desmond," she said after a very long pause. "He deserves to have the same opportunity as I do. And if this allows him to come home, then I'll let it happen. I vote yes."

James and Sayid both voted yes immediately afterward. Jin and Sun privately deliberated in Korean for a few more seconds before they finally both voted yes. Jack, who everybody had figured would be the first to vote, instead looked towards Juliet.

"You don't want to do this, I'll stand by you," James said instead.

Now she looked surprised. "It's your idea."

"What's that argument they make on TV? Slippery slope?" he told her. "Just cause I came up with it don't necessarily make it a great idea. "

Apparently, this was enough to make Juliet reconsider. "Just try not to get yourself hurt."

Only then did Jack turn to Hurley and say: "I guess its unanimous."

"You sure you can live with without telling Kate?" Hurley asked.

'I'm not going to lie and say I'm thrilled about it," he admitted, "but once we can finally tell her, I'm pretty sure she of all people, will be able to understand."

James turned to Hurley. 'Tell your guy to start looking fast. If Miles isn't available, we're going to need to come up with another choice."

Hurley nodded. He had known this was going to be complicated as well as dangerous, but not even could have imagined just how messy it was going to turn out to be.


	9. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

As the year changed at Seattle Grace, most of the staff couldn't wait to see this one gone. And at the top of the list was Callie. She was beginning 2007 the same way 2006 had: confused and disappointed. But unlike the previous year, the confusion was less emotional then it was sexual.

She had finally gotten to the point where she had realized that her marriage to George had probably been doomed before it began. She had been very attracted to him, but even she had realized that her husband had been in a bad emotional state when he'd proposed. Izzie Stevens had been a blond monkey wrench in their union, but it didn't change the fact that they had almost certainly been doomed from the moment the ring had gone on her finger.

She still blamed Stevens, not only for humiliating her in front of the hospital, but for causing enough of a distraction that she had ended up being demoted. Then things had gotten even more confused when she'd started hanging around Erica. Had she been so devastated by what George and Stevens had done that she had decided that men as a whole should be disregarded? Was that why she had reacted when Erica had kissed her? It had felt right, but maybe she had mistaken right for different and new? Even now, more than six months afterwards, she just wasn't sure. She knew that Erica had felt the same way, but in a hospital where everybody knew everybody else's sexual business, Erica Hahn had been a cipher. Maybe that had been what had driven them towards each other.

So for three months, they had danced around each other, had a couple of pleasing encounters, and then... she'd said she loved her. Erica hadn't expressed emotions to anybody in the hospital, which had meant even more when she'd said it to Callie. Had she been scared? Or was it just that she was still confused? Whatever the reasoning, she ended up in the hospital closet. With Mark. Again. Why the hell had she done that? And why the hell had she told Erica? It wasn't because she was in love with Mark. No, it was because Mark was safe, and Erica was... not.

And now, Erica was gone, and that, too, had been her responsibility. She kept making the same mistakes over and over. Which is why, before she made another one, she decided to talk with the one person in this hospital who understood her best.

"Hey, Torres," Mark still had that 'McSteamy' air to him, but it was clear that it was more than a false front than usual.

Despite her own problems, she wanted to know what was going on. "You still figuring out what to do with Little Grey?"

Mark considered this. "Well, that's a problem, it's not _the_ problem." He shrugged. "Hell, maybe it's not a problem at all."

"Okay, you're starting to worry me. You're sounding... deep."

A bit of Sloane's old cockiness returned. "Hey, I have as many multitudes as the next guy." He paused. "You remember a couple of years back I told you that me and Addison were going to have a baby, only she didn't go through with it?"

"Yeah. It was the most you let your guard down around me."

"It hurt. But I thought I was past it." Mark looked ahead. "Apparently, Addison wasn't."

This almost made Callie forget about her own problems. "I thought Addison couldn't have any kids. That she had some kind of fertility issue."

"She does. Or she did anyway." He frowned. "Apparently, Jack knew a top notch fertility expert who operates out of Miami. Considering her field, I'm kind of stunned that _he_ had to bring her attention to Addison, but she started seeing her about two months ago."

Jack certainly knew a lot of people in this world. "Really? How's it been going?"

"Apparently, a lot better than Addison could have ever imagined. She just got back from her latest consultation with this Dr. Burke" He held up his hand. "I looked her up in a journal. Trust me when I say she's not related to Preston. In any case, the treatments have been going very well, and Burke thinks she can undergo some kind of in vitro."

It now seemed pretty evident what was bothering Mark. "She wants you to be the sperm donor."

"Actually, she put it a lot better than that. ' I realize that when I did what I did, I put you through a lot of torment. But most of that was due to my own issues, not yours. We've been through a lot in the past couple of years, but I still think that you'd make a good father. And I think this is an opportunity. For both of us.'" Mark paused. "I've known her for fifteen years, I never knew Addison could be that eloquent."

"She's probably had some time to think about it," It kind of threw Callie for a loop that Mark was willing to discuss this situation with anybody. "You thinking of doing it?"

"Well, that's what I've been thinking over," he said. "Considering we had something remarkably close to this conversation about a year and a half ago, I kind of figured you might be the one person I could talk this through without, you know, bursting into laughter."

"You're not gonna talk to Derek about it?" Their relationship had improved immensely over the past year, even with Addison still around.

"Somehow, telling him that I'm considering fathering his ex-wife's child - again - isn't exactly going to put us in a great place." He frowned. "Addison said she wouldn't say anything until I decided."

"Let's hope she doesn't tell any one else." Callie seriously considered the question. "I never gave you a direct answer when you asked me the first time. Mainly because, even though you were my friend..."

"... You had a pretty good idea of what the answer would be," Mark finished. "Has your opinion of me changed since then?"

"I think you're a better person than you were six months ago," she said honestly. "The old Mark Sloan wouldn't have had room for second thoughts. He'd have done just whatever the hell he wanted, regardless if he hurt somebody."

"I may not exactly be a role model, but I never thought having a baby would hurt somebody."

"Would've hurt Derek. And for what it's worth, you and I both know he got past Addison a long time ago. I guess the question is, are you ready to be a father?"

Mark considered this for a moment. "Why did _you_ want to see me?"

Callie remembered why she'd gone to see Mark in the first place. "How many lesbians have sex with guys?"

After a long moment in which it seemed Mark was using every inch of his resistance not to make a crude joke, he finally spoke up. "This about Sadie again?"

"What? No," Callie hadn't thought about her seriously since her self-appendectomy earlier. She couldn't love anyone that reckless. "It's about Hugo Reyes."

Now Mark was thinking for a moment. "You mean that guy who made the donation to the hospital a couple of months ago? Jack's friend? When did you get a chance to talk to him?"

"Actually, he came and talked to me. I was stewing about the mess my life had become the last year, and he actually listened to me, even though he didn't know me from Eve." Callie actually gave a small smile. "Not a lot of good listeners in this hospital."

"You are. Maybe he sensed that." Mark suddenly picked up on this. "Wait a minute. Have you been dating this guy?"

"Seeing, yes. I'm not sure they qualify as _dates. "_

Callie then told about the last three times she had seen Hurley in the last month. The first time, he'd invited her out to dinner with Jack and Claire. There was a certain logic to this; the three of them knew each other from the plane crash, and both of them had a better relationship with Callie than Hurley did at the time.

The second time, they had gone to the Space Needle. Hurley had never had a chance to see it, and it had been interested to see him ride up the elevator and look from the windows. There was still a certain amount of innocence about him that was refreshing from the cynicism that Callie had built up over the last couple of years.

The third time, they had gone to one of the few remaining used records stores in Seattle. Hurley said he'd always had a fairly interesting taste in rock music. Then he had spent about fifteen minutes quizzing the owners about a seventies band that Callie had never heard of called Geronimo Jackson. When Callie had asked him about, he'd gotten secretive for the only time since she'd met him, and told him that he'd been trying to find out about it for someone he had known on the island.

"Maybe you heard of him. Charlie Pace?"

Callie had placed the name. "He was the lead guitarist of that rock group Drive Shaft. The guy you named that foundation in LA for."

"One of my closest friends." Hurley had swallowed. "Still think about him a lot." Then he had steadied himself, and covered it with some brief story about how they'd found this CD in the wreckage, and neither of them could place the band. Which had been odd considering how much Charlie had known about rock.

It was clear that there was more to the story, but given how terse Jack could be even now in talking about what happened in the aftermath of the crash, Callie wasn't that surprised. What was hard to tell was what this relationship was. Were they in the friend zone? Or did Hurley like her, and because he thought she was a lesbian, not going to intrude on the matter?

"I'm not going to lie to you, Callie, he's definitely a step up from your usual class of men. And yeah, I'm including myself." Mark paused. "Would you _like_ to go out with this guy?"

Callie had been pondering this very question for awhile. "He is a good guy. He admits a lot of the surgical stuff is over his head. Tells me he's still squeamish at the sight of blood."

"Probably saw more than his fair share." Mark added. "And you know he's not after you for your money."

"You know, even given the fact that he's richer than I am, he still prefers fast food."

"So I guess the question, do you think he's interested in you as a friend or something more?" Mark told him. "Hence the whole lesbian commentary."

"He says he knows lesbians only sleep with men on Cinemax"

Mark actually looked dumbstruck. "What?"

"Are you interested in him romantically?" he said quickly.

"That's what I'm trying to figure. And since my own judgment for sexual partners has been, in the best case, seriously flawed, I figured I needed an outside opinion."

Mark considered this for a minute. "You're a good friend, Torres," he slowly. "With the rocky history I have with Derek, you're pretty much the only friend I have in Seattle. Even without the benefits. So, I'm going to tell you, you're a catch. You're a good person, and you deserve to be with someone who cares about you. And it's pretty clear that this Reyes guy really likes you."

"What makes you so sure?" Callie asked.

"He's been out with you three times, and he hasn't even tried to make a move on you. Considering where we live, there's only one real explanation. He really cares for you."

This was hard to believe, considering the source. "He could be gay himself."

"It's possible. He is from LA, after all. But considering all the shit he's been through the past few years, my guess is he has a hard time trusting people. Can you imagine all the con men and toadies who'd probably be trying to get an ear?"

Callie knew better than most how much having money could affect people's opinion of you.

"Plus there's that whole surviving a plane crash, and living three months in hell. Frankly, I'm amazed the guy's as well adjusted as he is." Mark pointed out.

He did seem remarkably whole for a guy who'd been through what he'd been through.

"But the thing that makes me certain he's a good fit, is that this guy will _never_ lie to you. About _anything."_

Callie wasn't as sure about this. "And you believe this why?"

"I'm probably going to lose my man card for this, but you're worth it, Torres. No man ever admits he watches Cinemax. It's HBO and Showtime's poor cousin, the only reason anybody would even pick up from a service is for the late-night porn. Within an hour of meeting you, Hugo Reyes admitted he watched it. That's even bigger than saying that you subscribe to Playboy for more than the articles."

It was a Sloan-type answer that had a certain truth to it.

"And all of that comes before the fact that he's a nice Latino guy who happens to be ridiculously wealthy." Mark finished. "So there's no question that he's a guy worth dating. The only question remaining is, are you attracted to him?"

And the weird part was, Callie felt she had the answer to this question already. Sadie was blonde, gorgeous and had been flirting with her unabashedly since she had come to this hospital. Yet for the last few weeks, it had been Hurley on her mind at night far more than Sadie had ever been.

"Well, I guess my membership in the society of Sappho is about to be revoked," Callie said.

"Given where you were, I think you barely were considered a real resident," Mark told her. "Go get him, Torres."

It had been easier to find Miles Straume than it had been Mike and Walt, mainly because James had been right - he hadn't changed his name, and he wasn't dead or in jail. In fact, he was pretty much doing exactly what he'd been doing five years - claiming to commune with the dead.

Theoretically, James could have just called and made an appointment. But he figured that if this didn't deserve a more direct conversation, nothing would. So when Hurley came up with the information, he decided to go to Miles' house and knock on the door. Because he had changed immensely since their last meeting, he asked Juliet and Sayid to come with him, but told them to stay in the car until he asked them to come out.

"You don't think there's a chance he'll punch you in the face when he sees you?" Juliet had asked.

"I never conned him. We're in the same field. He'll probably give me five minutes as a matter of professional courtesy."

"The plan we've been working on is considerably more complicated than that," Sayid reminded him.

"Which is why I'm going to need at least ten to get him interested. When I do, then you come out."

"You seem pretty sure you can sell him, considering you're not offering him a quick buck," Juliet countered.

"A, I'm offering him a lot of money, and B, I _did_ do this for a living."

"And if this doesn't work?"

He flashed that grin that had caused so many women to fall at his feet. "It'll work."

He walked up to Miles door and rang the bell.

Miles hadn't changed that much since Sawyer had seen him last, save for the fact that he seemed to be going prematurely gray for a guy who had just passed thirty. He didn't punch James in the face. He didn't, however, seem elated to see him.

"Hello, Sawyer. Or should I say, Mr. Ford," he said snarkily. "Are you in the middle of your amends tour?"

"I don't know why you're so pissed, Miles," James told him. "It's not like we were going out or anything."

"I'm trying to do a simple thing, and help an old woman move on. Then you show up with her daughter, and try to convince her to get in on a bogus real estate job to bilk her out of her pension."

James flinched a little at that. He had been something of a bastard back then. Still, he went on the defensive. "And trying to give her a message from her husband's urn? That ain't the pot calling the kettle."

He expected Miles to at least look a little ashamed. "You're not a fake, are you." It wasn't a question.

Miles didn't blink. "When I was eleven years old, my mom was renting an apartment. I heard this old man screaming from the level below, wondering where his daughter was. I go right to his apartment, find where he keeps the spare key, and open the door to this guy whose clearly been gone from this earth a week. And all this time, I'm wondering why my mother or the landlord isn't hearing anything." He shrugged. "I don't know how I got this - thing - or why. I figured I might as well use to make it a living."

"And that vacuum cleaner set I saw you carrying around?"

This did get a look. "It's California, Sawyer. If you don't look like a salesman, they don't respect you."

"Son of a bitch," James shook his head. "Now that's a new one on me. And I've seen a lot of shit in my life."

"Like when you managed to survive a plane crash that initially had no survivors?" Miles told him.

This was a shock that James hadn't been expecting. "You know that story was a fake."

"Maybe I'm just too cynical for this state, but it seemed a little convenient that after Oceanic 815 disappeared off the face of the earth for two months, the wreckage shows up in a place two thousand miles off course in a place no one can reach but all of the passengers are miraculously accounted for," Miles told him bluntly. "When I heard it over the radio, the first thing that went through my head was 'What a load of crap.'"

James knew a lead-in when he saw one. He had to play it carefully, though. "Why? It's not like you knew anybody on the plane."

"Oceanic was a big deal. Never had a crash in their forty year history." Now Miles looked a little abashed. "Guess you wouldn't have known that, but it was a pretty big deal on the news networks before you resurfaced. So to speak. It seemed like someone was trying to solve a problem."

"Someone was."

Now he had Miles' attention. "What are you talking about?"

"How'd you like to know the answers to your questions, help me and my friends solve a pretty big problem, and, most importantly, make a shitload of money doing it?"

"Is that why you really came?"

James flashed him that grin. "Let me get my friends, and we can give you the official pitch."

Like so many of the cons he had been a part of, Sawyer had brought a suitcase full of cash with him. Unlike most of those other cons, this time the case was filled with actual money rather than newspaper.

"You don't mind if I count this, do you?" Miles told them, after Sayid and Juliet had entered his apartment.

"Considering what I used to do for a living, I'd have been insulted if you didn't." Sawyer told him.

Miles apparently was a little more trusting than he had been five years. He spent less than two minutes going through the suitcase before he told them that he wanted to hear their story.

The pitch had taken two weeks for the group to work out. Sayid and James had worked out most of the details. Using his actual name and occupations, Miles was going to apply for a job inside Charles Widmore's organization. By using the contacts the Kwons, one of the elements on Miles' resume was going to be that he had worked for Paik Automotive in a security capacity.

Having established his bona fides, Miles would work in the Widmore organization through the LA offices. He was going to work his way in, and get information about the business activities, illegal or otherwise, that had helped Charles Widmore build his empire. Why he had put a plane in the Sunda Trench would be appreciated, but not necessary.

Sawyer had known that Miles was not the kind of person who could be convinced to simply do the right thing, so he had brought $100,000 in cash for him just for listening to the story. The cash was walking around money for what he would be doing. If Miles agreed to do this, James was going to wire $1 million into his bank account as a down payment for his services. When Miles completed the job (and James told him that this was going to be a long term project) they would wire him another $2 million.

"You'll be in contact with either me or James," Sayid told him "Considering the nature of the task ahead of you, we advice that you use disposable cell phones to make contact. Keep us informed, and we'll work with on figuring out the next step."

"And how exactly are you going to do that?" Miles said cynically. "I may be Donnie Brasco in this scenario, but you sure as shit aren't the FBI."

"We have contact who will probably be able to give us details that will be helpful to you," Sayid responded. "For your security, and that of the source, its safer that you don't know who."

"Well, at least you're being honest as to how dangerous this is," Miles told them. "What makes you think I won't just take this suitcase and tell you to sod off?"

"You might very well do that," James admitted. "Hell, you don't owe me anything, and I know better than to appeal to your humanitarian streak. I don't even know you well enough to know if you're the best man for this job. What you are is the first man I thought who could handle this, and that was before I knew about your special skill."

"You know, considering what you used to do, I thought you'd be a better salesman," Miles told him.

"We realize how potentially dangerous this job might be," Sayid told him. "Under other circumstances, we wouldn't be inclined to subcontract. But James believes that there are very few men who might be willing to take this on. The fact that he considered you is significant. Not a lot of people make an impression on him the way that you have."

Miles considered this for a couple of moments. "I just want to be clear. There's no way I'm going anywhere near this island you were on."

"Why on earth would we want to do that?" Juliet told him. She had let Sayid and James do most of the talking, but now she had to speak up. "I want to make something perfectly clear. We have no idea what Widmore's connection to the island is, but if he starts making any noises towards setting another expedition, get out fast. That place is Hell with a capital 'H', and I know I speak for everyone on that."

James couldn't nod his head enthusiastically enough at this. "Considering how much we've learned about Widmore, the man is dirty. We just want you to find that dirt, and get it to us."

"And you'll do what with it?" Off their looks, Miles added: "I know, classified, we never talked about it. You know, James, you couldn't have just come to me with a dead body."

"Careful what you wish for, Sixth Sense."

"How long do I have to think about this?"

"I'll be in LA for the next couple of days. Take that long to think it over." He nodded to Sayid. "Look, this is a pretty big job I'm asking of you. God knows, if I were in your shoes, I'd probably think twice before drinking our Kool-Aid. "

"But?"

"Nothing. Just think on it." James got to his feet. "Either way, it was good seeing you again. "

"What do we do next?" Sayid said, as they were driving away from the house.

"Exactly what we told him," James said. "Wait for him to call us back."

"I don't know why you have such faith in him signing on," Sayid told them. "Based on the information that we got from Hurley's people, there's no real reason for him to do it. He'll just keep the money and never call us back."

"I watched a lot of movies about con men over the years, " James said slowly. "Most of them were pure bullshit, all sizzle, no steak. The only guy who ever seemed to have an idea of how to do talk the talk was David Mamet. I saw this one film he made, and he had one guy say: 'It's called a confidence game. Why? 'Cause I _take_ your confidence? No. Because I _give_ you mine.' That's what I did every time I did a con."

"Except you told him exactly what happened," Sayid reminded him.

"Sayid, you lived through the exact same shit I did. Can you honestly say that you'd have believed that story if someone came off the street and told it to you?" James asked.

It was a fair question, and the more time past between their departure from the island, the harder it was believing that it had to happened to them at all. "And you think Miles will sign on just because he's curious?"

"I wouldn't have thought it possible, if he were just another con artist," James admitted. "The fact that he's the genuine article means that, snark aside, he actually wants to know the truth. He'll probably tell us he's doing it for the money, he may even _think_ that's the reason, but he wants to know the truth."

"Even though it might end up getting him killed," Juliet had been quiet until now..

James sighed. "I ain't wild about that part either," he told her. "Hell, if there was a way to do this safely, you know we'd do it. But all of us have spent nearly a month going at this from every angle possible. There's going to be danger."

"I know that, James," she said sadly. "It's just... was one of the reasons you picked him because he had no family?" His mother was dead of cancer nearly ten years, and there was no listing of who his father was. He had no siblings, and no close ties to anyone.

"Lot of us don't," James told them with a sadness he rarely showed. "Probably one of the reasons the guy stuck in my memory to begin with. And to be honest, that's probably one of the reasons he'll take the job"

Juliet looked at her beloved. "I know I agreed to do this. And I'm not an idiot. I know that there's a good chance there will be blood no matter how hard we try. It's just... you don't have to enjoy it so much."

A shadow went over James' face. "Trust me, Blondie," he told her. "I ain't. May seem that way, but I'm not."


	10. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

Derek Shepherd rarely got nervous. It was part of what you had to do when you were one of the top neurosurgeons in the world. Bur now, as he waited for his ex-wife, he felt the first real bits of edginess about him since they had finalized their divorce nearly two years.

In truth, he and Addison didn't talk as much anymore. They had gotten through the majority of the issues they'd had that had caused their marriage to implode - twice - but they still had the same awkwardness that two divorced spouses who worked in the same place had. And even though they had long since moved on from each other, he was pretty certain the news that he was about to break wasn't going to make their lives any easier.

Addison walked up to their table. It was harder to tell, but Derek could see that his ex-wife looked a little out of sorts herself. As if to confirm the fact, she actually tripped sitting down.

"Oh, God," Addison said as she sat down. "Is something wrong? You've got that look you give your patients when you're about to tell them the tumor is malignant."

Derek actually laughed. Addison had always been able to read him well - for the first five years of their marriage, anyway. "What about you? The last time I saw you stumble over anything was... actually, I can't ever remember seeing you stumble."

"Derek, the last time you went to such elaborate efforts to make sure to get me alone in a restaurant, you proposed." Addison reminded him. "Now, considering we've been there, done that, twice in fact, I really don't want to think about what you're going to do next."

"Is that the only reason you're less sure-footed than a sloth right now?"

"Always the charmer. " She finally looked him in the eye. "Actually, I have been meaning to talk to you for the last few days anyway, but I just haven't been able to find the right time."

Derek didn't think he could've been more nervous. "Please don't tell me Mark proposed."

Addison laughed. "No, but you're on the right track." She sobered up quickly. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have-"

"No, its okay. " He found himself exhaling. "I just-"

"It's just that..." They both realized they had started to speak at the same time - something they hadn't done since the last couple of years of their marriage.

"You go first," he finally said.

"You asked to meet with me. In a restaurant that is the third choice of everybody at Seattle Grace to grab a meal." Addison raised an eyebrow. "You clearly didn't want anybody at the hospital to see us. Now, until you give me a real reason as to why you invited me here, I'm not going to tell you jack."

Now that he actually found he was going to have to tell this to a woman he had once considered the love of his life, Derek was beginning to wish he'd chosen a better setting. Finally, he screwed his courage to the sticking point. "I'm going to ask Meredith to marry me."

He watched his ex-wife's face very carefully, not at all sure what he was going to see. Hurt, jealousy, some kind of hostility. Instead, she actually smiled. "It's about damn time."

To say this was not the reaction he'd expected was an understatement. "What?'

"I mean, considering how eager you were to finally get back together with her when we divorced, you sure have been taking you sweet time." Addison told him. "Honestly, when you started dating that nurse, I was beginning to wonder if my feelings should've been hurt."

Derek, normally one of the more erudite surgeons on staff, found he couldn't get past one word in his vocabulary. "What?"

"Seriously, I was beginning to wonder if all you wanted was to sleep around. I mean, God knows, I mean I figured I might as well stick around, see if the third time was the charm."

"What-"

Then Addison was laughing. "Calm down, Derek. I'm glad the scales have finally fallen from your eyes. I'm just a little surprised you're telling me before you told her."

"Given the mess that we had after that serial killer came in with an aneurysm, that didn't seem like the best time to get down on one knee." Derek admitted. "I wanted to be in a better mental state so I could make things perfect."

"You always thought of everyone else's feelings. Even when it got in the way of your own happiness." Addison shook her head. "You don't need my permission or my blessing to be happy. But you have it anyway."

Derek inwardly breathed a sigh of relief. Everything Addison had said was true, but considering all of the sturm und drang that had surrounded their marriage the last few years, he really hadn't wanted to move on to the next step in his life until he knew she'd be okay with it.

"Thank you, Addison. I hope this makes what you're about to tell me a little easier."

"That remains to be seen." She took a deep breath. "You remember in May when I made that trip to LA to see Nae and Sam? It wasn't just a sabbatical I was checking to see my fertility issues. And it didn't look like I was any better off. "

"I'm guessing things have changed in that regard." Derek told her. "You've been making a lot of trips of state the last few months. Since if something really bad had happened to you, you'd have come here first, I assumed you were following someone else's protocol."

Addison nodded. "Apparently, Jack knew this colleague out of Miami. She'd been on the cutting edge of fertility research a few years back, and she's been back in practice the last couple of years in Miami."

"I'm a little surprised he had to tell you about someone," Derek said. "Kind of figured you'd know anyone as a general rule."

Addison seemed to be thinking the same thing. "Dr. Burke had been doing some kind of secret research with a biotech company out in Portland. The experience was a pretty traumatizing one, and the company had her so tied up in paperwork, she's still not supposed to go into detail as to what she actually did. However, the experience apparently left her so _angry_ that she told me she doesn't give a tinker's damn if they do find out she broke confidentiality."

Derek's curiosity was peaked - what this doctor had been doing, why he hadn't heard of her when he and Addison had still been together, and how Jack knew her - but he went to his primary concern. "Is her research legitimate?"'

"According to the Miami Medical Board, and the Florida Branch of the AMA, it is. In any case, for the past four months, she's been treating me." Addison shook her head. "I have to tell you, I have no idea what those bastards up in Portland did to poison her against sharing her research, but part of me really wants to drive up there and egg the building."

"She's a good doctor."

"She's a good person," Addison told him emphatically. "You remember Edmund Burke?"

Derek searched his memory. "Vaguely. Some kind of researcher operating out of Florida. Womanizer, tyrant..." It dawned on him. "That asshole was her husband?'

" _Ex-_ husband. She was working for him, even after the divorce came through. I don't know if the son of a bitch ever laid on her, but there was definitely some kind of emotional abuse there." Addison looked at him. "And whatever happened with him was just some warm-up for whatever happened the next three years. I'm frankly amazed, she's still in one piece."

"You don't normally speak this emphatically about a professional rival."

"She's an impressive person." Addison swallowed. "And I'm not just saying that because her research worked on me."

Derek almost felt his stomach drop. "You're pregnant."

"Not yet. Juliet's work has been concentrated on helping me become fertile again. Two weeks ago, she said I was ready to start the process of insemination. So I've spent the last couple of days deciding who I want to be my baby's father."

"Please God tell you don't want to ask me..."

Addison actually laughed at this. "You and Meredith have had a complicated relationship already. The last thing I want to do is to let you father my child." Now she dropped her eyes. "But I am.. considering.. asking... Mark."

Well, that explained a lot. If the triangle of him, Addison, and Meredith was complex enough, the one of Addison, him and Mark was even more so. The last year had been extremely awkward for all of them, but the fact that Addison, when faced with a choice between him and Mark had opted for 'none of the above' had made things easier. Derek and Mark had almost gotten to a point where their friendship was just about back to where it had been pre-affair. Small wonder Addison had come to him first about this.

"You know, he told me what happened after I left," he reminded her gently. "He was pretty pissed about what you did the first time out."

"He had every right to be," Addison shook her head. "You know, sometimes I wonder what would've happened if I'd just stayed in New York."

"Did you have a preference yet?"

"I've been in gynecology for ten years; I know better than anyone not to try and figure out what gender you get." She meditated. "I would've liked a girl."

"You would." Derek thought. "Your kid would be about three now."

"Not much older than yours." Derek's surprise must have shown on his face. "Come on, you don't think you'd be in the child planning stage with Meredith by now if I hadn't shown my head?"

"That's the whole reason I'm about to propose. I don't want to delay that part anymore. And I don't think you should either."

"You don't have a problem with this."

"Mark was my best friend. I know what a tough row he's had. Do I every so often want to punch him in the face?" Derek told him. "Even now, the urge comes upon me once in awhile. But honestly, I think the guy's a lot more ready to be a father than he was before everything went up in smoke. Just don't tell him I said so."

"Man, things in this hospital are going to be _weird,"_ Addison said.

A new problem had just occurred to Derek. "Have you told Richard about this?" he asked.

"I'm going to." Derek's look must have been odd because she added. "He was fine with Miranda working at the hospital until she was about to burst. And you and I both know he likes her more than he does either of us."

"It's a fair point," he admitted, "but then again, you've got to remember the turnover state in this hospital. We still don't have someone to replace Hahn, and I'm pretty sure our chief of pediatric surgery just died. Throw in what happened with the interns three months ago, the fact that his head of neonatology is going on maternity leave, well, that might give him an aneurysm that not even I can clip."

"I've been thinking about that, too" Addison admitted. "And maybe I can come up with somebody who'd be willing to step in when I have to cut back a bit."

"You thinking of Naomi?"

"That was my first thought, too, but she's told me in no uncertain terms that she doesn't want to go back to surgery full-time until Crystal has gotten into college." Addison reminded him. "Seeing as that's at least two years off, I think we can cross her off the list. Which is why I'm considering offering a temporary position to Juliet Burke."

That was something of a reach. "You don't think there could be some kind of kafuffle about a quid pro quo?"

"Not if she's qualified. And she wouldn't have the official title, just pro temp." Addison told her. "She's got a lot of field experience. She has great bedside manor. And she has a good enough relationship with Jack that I'd think she'd been willing to work at the same hospital."

"She does know he's taken?"

"So is she." Again Derek must have given an inquisitive stare, because she responded. "You remember when you operated on Carole Littleton a year or so ago?"

Normally, Derek would've had to struggle to remember a patient, but even he remembered the aftermath of this one. And that, in turn, helped him place Juliet. "Now I remember. Mid thirties, long blond hair, Jack had her registered as a VIP."

"Apparently, the reason she was there was because she had started to dating another of the Oceanic survivors - James Ford, the guy who got busted trying to break Kate Austen into the hospital."

Slowly, he was beginning to reconnect the dots. It hadn't been long after that he learned that Jack was actually Claire Littleton's half-brother. "You know, you need a scorecard figuring out the relationships between these people."

"I'm pretty sure they say the same thing about us, McDreamy," Addison reminded him pointedly.

Derek actually laughed for the first time since he'd sat down. "How did they end up dating?"

"She had a thing for Jack for about five minutes. Apparently, they worked together on a couple of stressful cases a few years back," she told him. "She reached out him after they returned to civilization, and got involved with James a little while after." Addison smiled. "I guess some women really do dig the bad boy."

"You certainly did."

"Well played." Addison told him. "The point is, every few weeks, James gets together with the rest of the survivor, and Juliet's sort of become a member of the unofficial family. I think not having to travel across the country every month to see her friends would be something of an incentive."

"That's with her unofficial family. What about her real one?' Derek had always been practically.

"That might be an issue. She's got a sister and a nephew she's incredibly close to." She frowned. "Maybe if the hospital offered her enough of a signing bonus that she could move them across country with her."

"You've really thought this through," Derek said admiringly. "All of this, of course, assumes that Richard would sign off on it."

"I think he will once he here's about her CV plus my recommendation," Addison assured her ex. "Frankly, there's only one real problem that I can foresee."

"Which is?"

"Mittelos, the company that gave her all of this hell, their main headquarters is in Portland," Addison told him. "She might not want to uproot everything she's known to go to the Pacific Northwest all over again."

"Even with all of these bonuses thrown in?" Derek reminded her.

"Mittelos made her the same kind of promises."

"She's been to the hospital, she knows how good several of the doctors on staff are, and it would be a chance to be closer to her friends," Derek told her, "Granted, there are probably painful memories wherever you work unless you're really lucky."

"Good point." Addison got up. "Have you decided when you're going to pop the question?"

"I'm trying to find the perfect time and place," Derek admitted.

"You thought you had the perfect time and place the last time. Look how that turned out," she teased.

"On the contrary," he smiled back. "I think it worked out perfectly."

Jack had taken a lot more extra responsibility the last two months. The fact that he had done so for the good of the hospital didn't make him feel any less exhausted.

In a sense, things were better at Seattle Grace than they had been. The interns had taken the on their responsibilities to him, if not exactly joyous, then at least willingly. He knew that he had finally earned a nickname, only it wasn't as flattering as Derek or Mark. He was 'the Ogre'. Much like Miranda, he had worn it as a badge of pride, especially considering who was giving him this nickname.

That didn't mean he hadn't allowed a certain amount of latitude. George, who at least in his professional career, was exemplary, had been relieved of his probation a week earlier. Some of them might have argued, given that he and O'Malley had had a good working relationship before, that Jack was playing favorites. But George had done everything that Jack ordered the others to do, and he hadn't bitched about it. That had been enough for him to put him back in the rotation first.

He'd allowed Meredith and Karev back into the OR next, mainly because at least they were trying now, and mainly because Yang and Steven had the most crap to get through before they should even be allowed within sight of one. That had led to a strain between Cristina and Meredith, and the two of them, who had been close friends were now barely speaking to each other. Jack found he didn't care that much about that. In his mind, the two of them had a parasitic relationship, not with each other, but with the hospital. Some distance might actually be good for them.

He'd expected some pushback from Derek or the other attendings for what he'd done, and had been pleasant surprised to find that none of them had confronted him directly. In fact, Mark had actually complimented him for what he'd done.

"It may not count for much, considering I probably have the least respect of anybody here," he'd told Jack a few weeks ago, "but I'm pretty sure we've dropped the ball ethically in a lot of areas since I got here. And considering _I'm_ the one having to tell you this, that should say something about how crappy this place has been."

He was less surprised that Derek had tried to go over his head, and that Weber had backed him a hundred percent. Considering that Richard had practically been willing to hand Derek his position last year, it had to be a bad sign of where their relationship was right now. Derek had gone out of his way to avoid Jack except on consults now.

Things had been going very well for the last few weeks, even if there had been a lot of stress. The only person who was giving him concern was Stevens.

Stevens had been handling the bare essentials of her job well enough. Next to O'Malley, she'd been the closest one to being an actual doctor before the big explosion, so going back to basics probably wasn't the worst thing for her. What was becoming a big deal was how erratic her behavior had been. She kept getting easily distracted in conversation, constantly looking to one side. She was still remarkably behind in her charts and other paperwork. And she kept disappearing during her shift. This, in itself, wouldn't have been odd - it usually meant that she was going to one of the storage closets to have a tryst with Karev. But there were more and more occasions where she'd be gone and Karev would claim he didn't know where she was. And whenever he asked Alex about it, he kept saying that Izzie was fine.

Finally, after a day where she had organized a series of diagnostic 'games' for her interns as a bonding exercise, Jack found that he could no longer ignore what was going on with Stevens. He told her to come and see him in his office at the end of her shift, half expecting that she wouldn't show up.

Stevens did knock on his door around half an hour later. He waited for her to sit down and get situated before he finally spoke. "I take it you know why I called you in today," he said slowly.

"Because I've been sleepwalking through my shifts the last few months," Stevens replied. "Honestly, I thought I'd done a good job hiding it."

"Not really," Jack told her. "If you didn't work at a hospital where nobody else could see beyond their field of vision, I'm sure your friends would've told you by now."

Stevens nodded. "I'm actually glad it's you," she said slowly. "You'll tell me the truth."

"And why wouldn't anyone else do that?"

He wasn't prepared for the answer. "Because you don't like me."

Jack's shock must have shown on his face. "Oh, don't get me wrong. We got along pretty well for the first few months you were here. But you made it perfectly clear when you read us the Riot Act three months ago. I have failed this hospital."

Jack wouldn't have put it that way, but her work had been subpar for much of the last few months. He hadn't been wild about the way she'd treated Torres either. "You've made mistakes, Stevens. Far more than any other hospital would probably be willing to allow. But that doesn't mean I don't like you. It's more like, I'm disappointed."

"You have every right to be." For the first time Jack noticed just how pale and drawn Stevens had looked. He had assumed that it was part of the extra work that he had made her do over the past couple of months. "I don't recognize who I am any more. Who was the person who would torpedo a marriage? Of her best friend, no less. I thought things were getting better when Alex and I got back together, but..." She trailed off.

It was time to get right to the guts of it. "Stevens, for the last few months, you've been off. Emotionally or mentally, I'm not sure. But we've clearly passed the point where you can just say you're busy. I need you to tell me what's going on."

Stevens swallowed several times. For a minute, Jack thought she was just going to utter more denials. "After Hahn left the hospital, I started seeing... Denny."

Of all the things Izzie Stevens could have told him, this was way at the bottom. "What are you saying?"

"At first, I thought it was hallucinations based on the residual guilt from why Hahn left." she said slowly. "And I kept saying it was in my head. Then I reached out, and then..." Stevens looked down. "I began to experience tactile as well as visual and audio hallucinations."

Jack wasn't sure he was hearing right. He didn't want to be hearing right. "What kind of tactile hallucinations?"

Izzie started glowing red. "We had sex." Pause. "Multiple times."

This was crazy in a way that, even for this hospital, was batshit nuts. "You'd better not be trying to-"

"I know how crazy it sounds." Stevens said stubbornly. "And I know that I, of all people, should've come to the obvious conclusion earlier. It's just...just..."

She broke off, and started to mist up. This, in itself, was more concerning than what Stevens had just told him. Though she didn't have the iron in her spine that Yang or Meredith did, Stevens, when pushed to her limits, didn't break. The fact that she was starting to cry worried Jack even more than what he was hearing.

"I missed Denny so much," she told him. "I know that what I did can't be excused, but I loved him. And we never got a chance to be together. After two years, I thought I was finally past it. But some wounds never heal completely. So when Denny showed up, I thought I was getting everything that I wanted. I know that it was wrong, and that I should have done something sooner. But Dr. Shephard, haven't you ever wanted to believe that something was there, even though all your training told you that it couldn't be?"

Jack knew what his medical judgment was telling him. And hell, a couple of years earlier, he would have just given her a clear set of marching orders. But she'd poured her heart out to him. He figured he should at least do likewise.

"After the plane crash, the first few days, as you can imagine, were hell. We began to wonder why rescue was coming, we ran out of food and to start finding it ourselves, and then we starting getting short on water." he said slowly. "Everyone was looking to me to lead, and I didn't want the job. Which wasn't easy, considering that I had to handle all the medical issues. Around the fifth day, I thought I saw someone in a suit wandering the island. For the next day or so, I kept seeing him."

"Who was he?"

"My father. Whose coffin I had put in the baggage hold before I got on the plane." Jack kept going. "Just when the crisis for water was getting worse, I saw him again, and I ran after him. I followed him right off a cliff. I was pretty sure I was going to die right there, and then a man saved me."

Stevens actually seemed attentive for the first time in weeks. "Who?"

"His name was Locke." It was the first time he had mentioned the man's name to anybody who wasn't outside the immediate circle of friends. "I told them that I was chasing something that couldn't be there. Because it was impossible. He said: 'Even if it was, let's say that it's not.' And he told me to go and follow what I'd seen. That I needed to."

"And did you?"

"I knew that I was running on fumes, and had nearly died as a consequence. But a part of me thought I had to. So the next time I saw... my father, I chased it to a lagoon. And once I got there, I found his coffin."

Jack took a deep breath. "You're the first person I've told this story to."

"Do you think it really was his ghost?"

Jack knew that a lot was riding on the answer to this question. "I don't know. There were a lot of things I saw after the crash that I've compartmentalized into oblivion, mainly because I couldn't bring myself to think that anything Locke said was real."

"He died?"

"He didn't make it back," That was as close as Jack was willing to go about his rival's fate. "What I do know is that in the real world, if I had seen my father walking down the halls of the hospital, I would have gone either to psych or to get an MRI. "

Izzie had the good grace to hide her eyes. "I know what I've done was insane, but I think that part of me was willing to accept the possibility that I was dying because it meant that I was going to see Denny again. Don't ask me why I thought this way. But I don't want to die, either."

"Not for nothing, Stevens, but you sure as hell haven't been behaving like a woman who wants to _live,_ either." The minute the words left his mouth, Jack knew that he'd gone too far. And yet, there was a truth to them that Stevens hadn't been willing to admit. She was a doctor. She had to know that part of these hallucination could be due to some kind of brain problem. And she also knew that the longer she delayed in getting a diagnosis, the grimmer the prognosis was likely to be. Yet for months - not days or weeks, _months -_ she had ignored her training in favor of a fantasy. How could she justify this, not just to herself, but to Alex?

For a moment, Jack wondered if Stevens would respond. Then she looked at him. "You'll take me through the process?" she said slowly. "I can't tell the others. I can't tell Alex. Not until I know for sure."

He knew he was the wrong person for this. Izzie should be talking to Derek right now. But she'd told him. And she'd been right. The last few months, he hadn't really liked Stevens that much. And she'd opened up to him regardless. He knew how important the doctor-patient bond was, more than many in the hospital did. "Six am, neuro ward. I'll find a way to make sure Meredith doesn't know until... there's something to know."

"You mean, if I really am going crazy?" Stevens wasn't even a patient yet, and the gallows humor was already there.

"For the sake of everybody here, I almost hope you are," he told her with as much sincerity as he could muster.

In his heart, though, he knew that this wasn't the case. They weren't on the island, after all.


	11. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

"Hugo!"

It was kind of amazing, after all of the curses, the plane crash, being chased by smoke monsters, armed mercenaries and Others, that Hurley was still troubled by the sound of his mother's voice. It wasn't because they didn't get along - of the surviving Oceanic's, Hurley was the only one who'd had a good relationship with his mother _before_ the plane crash - but because he was so worried about everything he'd put her through. His Ma had always stood up for him and been supportive, but after all the trouble that had followed them like a curse until they'd come back, he was worried that he'd been letting her down.

"Something wrong, Ma?" he asked.

"Why do you always think something's wrong, Hugo?" Carmen Reyes told him.

'I don't know," he said slowly. "Past experience."

Some of his concern must have been present in his tone, because his mother softened. "Things have been going well for us, Hugo. Your friends are good people, you've been doing so many good works, I just worry that you're not taking care of yourself."

"It's not like I'm gonna fade away to nothing," he joshed.

"I'm not worried. What I am worried about is that I think you're trying to do too much." Mrs. Reyes said worriedly. "Maybe I was wrong about the numbers being bad luck. Certainly, it brought us more than our share of grief. I just worry that you're so busy trying to help other people that you're not worried about yourself. Finding someone."

Hurley hadn't told his mother about Callie yet. He decided that there wasn't much point in delaying any longer. "Actually, I have seeing someone the past few weeks."

"Really?" Carmen asked. "When did you have time?"

"The last few trips that I've made to Seattle. I met a woman." Hurley said slowly. "We started talking, it was clear we got along, and about two weeks ago, we started officially dating."

Carmen considered this for a moment. "What's her name?" she said skeptically.

"Callie Torres. She's a surgeon at Jack's hospital." He reached into his pocket, took out his cell phone, and scrolled to a picture of the two of them on the ferry.

Carmen considered this. "She looks nice," she said. "Like a real woman. " She hit Hugo on the side of his head.

"Why didn't you tell me about her?" she demanded, while Hurley rubbed the sore spot.

This was, in fact, a question that Hurley had concerns about. His mother was, after all, very Catholic, and there were two aspects of Callie's former romantic attachment that she was going to have trouble with. Hurley cared about neither of them, but he wanted his mother to like the woman he'd been dating. So he decided to go with the one that was probably more relevant. "Callie... got divorced last year."

Carmen now considered this. "Did she leave him or did he leave her?" she asked.

"Hard to say." He'd told his Ma some of what had gone on at Seattle Grace, but he'd kept most of the stories about Callie private. "You know that Doctor O'Malley, the one I asked for help with the clinic I built here?"

His mother thought for a moment. "Yes, small young man, dark hair, seemed nice enough." Her voice hardened. "What did he do?"

"If I told you the whole story, we'd be here all week." Hurley admitted. "I'll give you the short version. George and Callie had been in a relation for a couple of months, and they got married. George seemed to care about her, but about a month after that, he got drunk and had a one-night stand with another resident, Stevens, I think her name was."

"And he didn't tell her about it," his mother said judgingly.

"He didn't tell her for about a month. Then he did, and she was willing to forgive him, but for some reason he thought he was in love with this Stevens woman." Even reciting the bare facts made Hurley angry, and he wasn't a guy who got angry easily. "I don't know who officially filed the papers, but the marriage was basically over four months after they'd gotten married."

Now Carmen sounded more sympathetic. "Let me guess, the woman was a busty redhead."

"Actually, a slim blonde." Hurley shook his head. "That's not even the worst part. After the marriage was over, George didn't bother to stay with Stevens. Apparently, having sex sober made them realize they didn't have chemistry."

"Honestly, Hugo, the people at Jack's hospital have more affairs than in my stories," Carmen told him.

"Well, let's just say, she was just about in the position of giving up on a relationship altogether until we met."

"I don't see why not. You're a catch." His disbelief must have shown on his face. "Why do I have to keep telling you this? You're nice to everybody you meet, you've become a humanitarian. You can be perfectly nice to complete strangers. Why can't you accept that you deserve to be happy?"

It was a question that Hurley had been pondering for a while. He'd long since gotten past the idea that he was cursed, so why was he still acting like he was around people he liked?

"Does it have to do with Libby?" his mother asked gently.

It wasn't a bad question. Even though he'd known her for less than a month on the island, had never even known her last name until he'd gotten back to civilization, it had been one of the deepest relationships he'd been in, the one that had caused him the most pain. He'd finally thought that he'd managed to move on from her, but only in the sense that he had finished grieving. He still hadn't tried to have a relationship with a woman until he'd met Callie.

"I don't know, " he admitted. "I'm not going to lie. I do miss her a lot. But really the pain's gotten a lot less now that I'm able to share it. Maybe that's part of the reason."

"What do you mean?"

"I guess, if I get real close to Callie, I'm going to have to tell her what really happened on the island."

"You don't think that Jack told her or the others at his hospital about it?" Carmen asked curiously.

"He says that he's given bits and pieces to some of the other attendings." Hurley admitted. "He said he'd told Callie a few details about the crash, but nothing about what happened afterwards. Pretty much the same with everyone else."

"You tell any of the other doctors you work with?" his mother asked. "That Dr. Bailey?"

"I told about some of the people who didn't make it back," he said. "Charlie, Libby, Eko, but not much of the details. Jack said he's told her more about the crash than anybody else at the hospital, but he's, uh, tried to keep it plausible."

"Both of you are probably making the right decision."

Hurley looked at Ma. "You don't think she'd believe me?"

"Hugo, I believe you. I know that you're the kind of person that wouldn't tell a story that confusing if it weren't true." His mother assured him. "And I think if this Callie gets to know you well enough, she'll believe you too." She paused. "What I think you should be careful about is _where_ you tell her."

That was a little puzzling. "Huh?"

"The one thing that both you and Jack seem to keep coming back to about this hospital is that no one can keep a secret." Carmen raised an eyebrow. "An intern tells a nurse a story, by the end of the day, the entire hospital knows it. Or am I wrong?"

"It mainly.. has to do with gossip about people at the hospital," he told her.

" _Si._ And once you start becoming serious with this girl, you'll become part of the hospital business," his mother told her. "Really, considering the number of times you've been up at there, I'm amazed they haven't started their own website about you already."

This was a very valid point. And suddenly he realized if it slipped out, a bunch of doctors would suddenly be making judgments about everything that happened on the island. Judgments that could lead to his friends ending up in places that might not be as nice as Santa Rosa.

"What do you think I should do?" he asked.

His mother thought about it. "Sit her down in a private place. Explain in the nicest possible terms that what happened after the crash wasn't the whole truth. Tell her as much about the island as you feel comfortable telling her about." She hesitated. "You should probably mention Libby in more detail. Once you've told her everything, ask her what she thinks. If she's as nice a woman as you say she is, then none of it will matter."

This actually sounded pretty reasonable. Still... "I should probably ask Jack if he thinks its a good idea."

Carmen considered this. "Why? Didn't you tell me a few weeks ago that he was willing to yield being Mr. Big on this?"

"It's his hospital, Ma." Hurley reminded her. "This could end up affecting him. Big time."

"He's still got a lot on his plate. But maybe you should run it by someone else. Maybe Claire. That girl's always had a good head on her shoulders."

Hurley thought about for a few more moments. He'd always thought that Claire had been the most influential among them, and that was before they'd all learned that she was Jack's sister. She'd probably be able to deliver how important this was to him without sounding serious at all. "I'll talk to her next time I'm up there."

"And once you think you're comfortable with her, bring her down to meet me for a nice meal." His mother gave one of those rare smiles. "I've been waiting a long time for you to bring a girl home."

"Thanks Ma." He was about to walk away, when she spoke up.

"How long were she and that cad married?"

Hurley was puzzled. "I think about four months. Why?"

"Considering how fast they got married, there might be grounds for an annulment."

Hurley figured that his mother's natural urge to meddle might screw this up. "Gee, I don't know, Ma. Have the rules changed under this new Pope?"

"Not that much," Carmen paused. "But you're right. The Seattle diocese probably is a lot stricter than here."

Jack had kept his word, and he had helped Izzie Stevens every step of the way. He wasn't a neurosurgeon, and technically he knew that she should be seeing the other Dr. Shepherd, but a promise was a promise. For the next week, he had helped Steven through every single neurological, cardiac and scan that he could think of to figure out what exactly was causing the hallucinations that had been driving her mad the last few months.

At one point, he had been willing to find that it just might be some kind of psychosis that he wasn't aware of. None of the tests came back with any clear diagnosis. However, he wasn't sure that this was necessarily a good thing. Stevens was twenty-seven, which was definitely late for a psychotic break, but not out of the range of possibility. There were ways that this could be treated, but it would terminate her career as a surgeon. No hospital - not even this one - would allow a doctor to remain on staff with a mental condition this severe. Whether or not Jack thought that it was a good idea for Stevens to be a surgeon in the first place was irrelevant. And considering how close to the edge she was right now, he did think that she would be able to exist much longer if she couldn't be a surgeon. She'd probably end up in some kind of institution within a year.

And then, he found something. A couple of small, almost indistinguishable moles on her back. He performed a biopsy. Which led to some more tests. And then, a diagnosis. Which made him realize that a psychotic break would have been preferable.

"I'm almost tempted to lead this with the 'good news, bad news' argument," Jack said when he saw Stevens after nearly a week and a half of testing.

"I can see the punch line already, Dr. Shephard," she said. "The good news is, you're not insane. The bad news, its terminal."

Jack tried to remember everything about bedside manner he'd learned over the last couple of years. Despite his prickly relationship with Stevens the last few months, he didn't want to terrify her.

"Skin cancer, " he told her slowly. "There was the growth of a few moles early on. Had they been more obvious, I'm sure you'd have picked up on them yourself. But most of the growth was subcutaneous. And it seems to have developed slowly and steadily enough that it has spread to your brain. I'll have to talk with Derek about the exact details, but it looks like it spread around your temporal lobe."

"Which would explain the hallucinations." she said slowly.

"And given the placement, why they appeared to be tactile as well."

"I remember reading it the Harvard Medical Journal that of all the skin cancers that are caught, only eight percent get to the stage that they could be dangerous." She gave a plucky smile. "It looks like I have hit the Powerball."

"It is treatable," he told her. "But this is a very aggressive cancer. It's going to require surgery and aggressive chemo afterwards."

"And what's the success rate for these kind of cancer with treatment?"

There was no way to lie to her. "Not great. With immediate treatment, survival rate after one year is around forty percent."

Stevens' stoicism had managed to come back after her confession in Jack's office earlier. "I really, really wish I had gone nuts," she told him.

"You're a doctor, Izzie," he said quietly. "You're in one of the best hospitals in the country."

"We did drop from second to twelfth last year," she reminded him. "Though how much of that is my fault..."

"I'm really sorry. I am." Jack said sincerely. "But we should probably talk about your next steps."

"What next step?" she told him. "I am a doctor, and you've basically told me that I'm going to die. Now, I'm definitely pissed about that, but I also know that's it a matter of time. If I do everything you're telling me to do, I live a miserable year, mostly in this hospital, and die anyway. If I don't do anything, what do I have? Three, four months maybe?"

"Around that," Jack told her.

"How many terminal cases have you seen, Jack?" She was calling him Jack now. Up until now, they'd always referred to each other professionally. This was probably not a good sign. "We do are best for them, we offer them options, but eventually, the end result comes around. And we have to make the best of a bad situation. A morphine drip, a dialysis machine, a ventilator. We trade in euphemisms like 'pain management' or 'making the patient comfortable'. We're just getting them ready for the end."

"It's different in your case, Stevens," Jack was not prepared to go there. Not for a twenty-seven year old. "You have people who care about you in the hospital. You have a man who loves you at home. I think Alex would feel very differently if he knew that the woman he loved was suffering from a potentially fatal illness and I just let her walk out the door."

Izzie got to her feet, and looked out the window. "I said the same thing to Denny over and over. Not to give up. To choose life. That he had to live for me. And what did it get him in the end? He died, in his bed, with no one around." She looked around. "I will not let my life end that way."

This didn't sound like the Izzie Stevens he knew. "We work at a hospital where miracles happen every day. Need I remind you how my sister's mother was going to die had it not been for the chief of neurosurgery here. Claire still sends him a fruit basket every month, and you and I both know Derek hates fruit."

He'd been hoping to at least get a smile out of Stevens. She didn't even look towards him. "Maybe this is what I deserve," she said slowly. "I spent four months putting my lust for a patient above everything else, ethical standards, my relationship with Alex, Bailey's job, everyone else's. George once said that there was a balance to everything. Maybe this is how I even the scales. My life for his."

"Is that it?" Jack told her. "You want to die? I know that the last year and a half haven't exactly been a picnic for you, and I know that I haven't exactly gone out of my way to make things easier, but are you so upset that you actually think this is the gallant way out? You think Meredith will believe that? George? Alex? You think their lives are going to somehow be magically improved when someone they love dies? The way I see it, Izzie, you've got two choices. You can do what you said you were going to do, under some misguided notion that somehow your death balances the ledger with Denny, even though the way I see it, it does a lot more damage with you gone. Or you can fight. Do what it takes to live. And then, start doing the work to repair everything. Your standing at Seattle Grace, your friendships, hell, maybe you even marry Alex. It's not the easy thing. But it is the brave thing."

Stevens looked ahead. "I guess you've been working on improving your bedside manner," she said slowly.

"Honestly, I may have borrowed that last little bit from _ER,"_ he admitted. "But what the hell, if it works, I'll add it to the repertoire."

She just stood there for a bit. "I know that this isn't your specialty," Izzie finally said. "But if I'm going to go through with this, you're still my doctor. Not Derek, not Bailey. You."

Jack could understand some of this - she'd confessed to him, and she'd started the diagnostic procedure with him, but he was as qualified to perform neurosurgery as he was to do blast mining. "Not that I object, but why?"

"Because you can stay reasonable. And dispassionate." Stevens took a deep breath. "I'm going to need that going ahead."

When it came right down to it, he was going to need it for the next twenty-four hours. Because apparently, while he'd been guiding Stevens through some terrible decisions, the rest of Seattle Grace was having a nervous breakdown.

He'd known that there had been something going on with Derek the last week or so - his mother had made a visit a month earlier, and he'd gone to a great deal of trouble to talk with her in private. But then, a pregnant patient had come in earlier that week, and things had started to go to hell. She was six months pregnant, and clearly had a minor neurological issue. Derek had put her under the knife, and she'd seem to come out okay - except than she'd started having trouble completing sentences. He'd nicked something in her temporal lobe.

Then he'd had to put her under again, and things had gotten worse - he'd had to remove her temporal lobe, a procedural was dangerous into itself, and after he'd done so, the woman had died, and Addison had to be rushed in to the do an emergency C-section in order to save the baby.

Understandably, Derek had been pissed. It was how he had chosen to express his anger that was starting to become worrisome. Derek Shepherd was usually the calmest surgeon in the entire hospital. But for some reason, when Sloan had approached him a few hours after the surgery, he'd knocked him down and hit him in the face several times.

All of this Jack could understand, and to an extent, sympathize with. As a resident, he'd been told that he took the losses of patients far too personally, and that he'd had a problem letting go. (He'd basically ignored it because his attending had been his father, but there was a certain level of truth to it.) But Derek had gone beyond that. He'd had a meeting with the hospital lawyers, at which he was told his death rate. Jack had no idea what the number had been, but Derek had started spiraling from there.

Now, when he needed to talk with one of the top neurosurgeons in the country, he didn't seem to be in the hospital. And Meredith, who you would think would be able to speak with him rationally, had apparently gone to his trailer, and came back despairing. Jack didn't think that Derek was the kind of person to trash his surgical career and romantic life in the same conversation, but it sure seemed like he was wrong.

So, he went down to see Bailey to try and find out what the hell was going on.

"Miranda," he said slowly. "I thought that we had a discussion about this. That you and I were going to try and put this hospital back together."

Bailey looked more troubled then she had in a long time. "Jack, the last thing I need is another crisis."

Now was definitely not the time to bring up Stevens. "Unless I'm very much mistaken, we're talking about the same one."

Now she looked guilty. "The last few days haven't exactly been easy for Derek."

"I'm well aware of that, Miranda. I also know that if you had to deal with what I've been handling the last two weeks, Derek would trade places with me in a heartbeat."

Miranda Bailey may have been dealing with a lot of problems - he knew that her marriage hadn't improved much in the last few months - but she was still canny. "That have anything to do with the Jane Smith you've been occupying the diagnostic wards the last few days with?"

"Like I said before, Miranda, one crisis at a time. And right now, the problem seems to be that our hospital seems to be running short of attendings."

Miranda looked guilty again. A look that didn't particularly look good on her. "Derek seems to be going through some kind of emotional crisis right now."

"And are these things, like chicken pox, contagious? Because I can't find Torres or Hunt either."

"I thought that Callie might be able to talk some sense into Derek. Then, when she didn't come back after three hours, I sent Hunt to get her back."

 _Great. Now half the staff is going through its own crisis of confidence._ "I understand why you didn't send Addison or Mark after him, but did you have some kind of grand strategy in case Hunt failed? Because we're running out of lifeboats."

Miranda looked considerably more worried. It didn't look good on her. "Honestly, I hadn't thought that much far ahead."

"Has Richard found out yet?" This was the last thing he needed on his plate.

"I've been stalling him for the last couple of hours, but he'll put two and two together soon enough." She heaved a sigh. "Should I send Meredith?"

"Didn't he just break up with her?" She looked at him. "You can try to ignore gossip in this place, but its hard to avoid it."

"What do you want to do?"

Jack really hadn't wanted to go through this again. "I'm heading out there. If you don't hear back from me in three hours, send out a page that there's a mass casualty heading to Seattle Grace. At the least, it'll get Hunt and Torres off their asses."

"What if this doesn't work?" Miranda was starting to sound a little desperate now.

He really hadn't wanted Bailey to find out this way. She'd been Stevens' attending; they founded the clinic together. "Then I need you to go talk to your former interns. Because whether or not Derek comes back, this hospital's going to have another storm coming soon."

Jack had never driven out to Derek's trailer before. In fact, for the last few months, it had been essentially unoccupied. Ever since he and Meredith had gotten back together, he'd moved into Meredith's home, and started work on building a dream house for the two of them to live in someday soon. The only reason he knew where it was at all was because Addison had lived there during the period the two of them had tried to reconcile. She'd been more than willing to give him direction, and had even asked whether there was anything she could do to help.

"Hope that today continues to be a quiet day at Seattle Grace," he told her earnestly. "I have a feeling that things are not going to be pretty out there."

He was right. When he got there, he saw no sign of Derek, but on the front stoop were Owen and Callie, with what looked like two or three six-packs between them. Well, at least there was a legitimate reason why they hadn't headed out.

"You know, I'm trying to be as understanding as possible," Jack said as he walked up to the front door. "That was before I knew that our top neurosurgeon has apparently become Typhoid-Goddamn Mary."

Callie tried to stand up. She couldn't pull it off. "Jack, I'm sorry."

"I thought things had been better the last few months," he said slowly. "Even if they were as horrible as they've been, why are you hopping on the alcohol bandwagon that Derek has become?"

Now she did seem ashamed. "I was trying.. to understand.. why he was so upset," Callie clearly couldn't have walked a straight line, much less gotten behind the wheel. "I know... that's no excuse."

"And Hunt? Why are you here?" Jack asked. "I realize you may know what PTSD is from both sides of the looking glass, but you haven't exactly shown that you're the model of mental health."

Owen Hunt had always been better at putting up a false front than his fellow doctors. "What do you know about it?"

"I survived a plane crash, and three months in Hell. And before that, I was pretty close to being an alcoholic." Jack told him. "Have you even told Christina what's wrong with you? Or are you just going to wait until she finds you curled in a fetal position, crying at the foot of the bed?"

He had made an educated guess based on what he had seen of Hunt. The look on his face, even blanketed by booze, told that he had struck home in a way that Jack wouldn't have thought possible.

"I came to try and help another soldier," Owen whispered.

"And you haven't exactly done a standup job." That was crueler than Jack had meant to be, but there was a certain brutal truth to the situation. "Where is Derek, by the way? Please don't tell me he's decided to go on a beer run."

"He's been on Scotch the last few hours," Callie admitted. "Each time, one of us comes to see to him, we talk, he berates us, then goes inside to get drunker."

Jack could have figured out that much on his own. He hadn't had a drink in nearly six months, but he was practically getting a contact high off the fumes from this trailer. "Please tell me he still has some coffee in there," he asked Torres.

She looked a little confused. "Probably, though my guess is he hasn't had any since he moved back here."

Reluctantly, he got to his feet. "You're going in there to make coffee, and sober up. I'm going in there to talk some sense into Derek."

"He's not listening to common sense," Callie told him.

"That's good. Because I've used up my quota of inspirational speeches for the day."

Derek had a glass in front of him. It looked like he had killed an entire bottle of Black Velvet, and had moved on to Maker's Mark. If Jack had been in a lighter mood, he might have joshed with him about what good choice as a drinker he was making for a rookie. But he was in no mood to make jokes.

"Get the coffee," he told Torres. "As strong and as black as you can make it."

Callie looked around. "I don't know where he..."

"Look on your own." Then, because he couldn't resist: "Listening to him has done you absolutely no good today. Don't start now."

He sat down next to Derek, who hadn't even acknowledged him, either because he was too hammered or didn't care. That was fine. It was going to take a minute for him to get started.

"You are one sorry son of a bitch," Jack finally said.

Callie looked at him. "Jack."

"You lost a patient. I get it. She was pregnant, and she was young. That's sad, I admit. But I've known you to lose a lot of the patients over the past couple of years. You never took it this personally before." A sudden approach occurred to Jack. "I didn't know you were the kind of doctor who cared too much."

This got Derek's attention. Sort of. "What are you talking about?"

"I've seen you operate dozens of times. No matter how grim the circumstances or unlikely the outcome, you always tried to be optimistic. It's admirable. Hell, two months ago, you were able to operate a bona fide serial killer, and decide that he'd deserved to live. Even it was only long enough to get a lethal injection. I know I couldn't have done that. But you have this slight hiccup, and you fold like a cheap suit?" Jack shook his head. "I guess you just don't have what it takes."

"Not about that," Derek slurred.

"Really? Then tell me what it is about. Actually, you know what? Don't." Jack got to his feet. "Whatever you think it is, it's not a reason. It's an excuse. You screwed up during surgery. Guess what? You're not perfect. You may be one of the greatest neurosurgeons in the world, but you're not God. Everybody makes mistakes. If you've just decided now that you can't live with that, well, you're a bigger coward then I thought you were."

Callie had been listening to this with a growing amount of horror. "Jack, please."

"You had your chance. It's my turn now." Jack didn't even turn around. "It's always a tough blow to lose a patient. But to throw away happiness with the woman you love? That takes a certain kind of stupidity."

"Shut up." Derek was starting to shake a little.

"I mean deciding to resign, because you thought you were a bad doctor, that's totally understandable. I mean, any doctor at Seattle Grace would do that. But deciding that you're not going to be with Meredith?" Jack paused. "Actually, that's not so odd for this hospital. How many times have you done it before? Two? Three? Frankly, it's hard to keep track."

"Don't talk that way about her," Derek was at least sounding angry now.

"But then again, this _is_ Seattle Grace. I suppose you'll be back in the supply closet with her in a couple of days."

"That's ENOUGH!" Derek tried to get to his feet with authority, but he was still too drunk for that. Instead, he knocked the table over, and the Black Velvet bottle fell to the floor. Jack didn't even flinch. He'd been through enough drunk spells with his father to hardly be phased.

"What are you going to do? Beat me to a pulp? You've done that to someone already this week. " Jack spoke as if nothing had happened. "Seriously, don't you have an original bone in your body?"

Derek fell back down to the chair. Apparently, just standing up had taken everything he had out of him.

"You've had a rough week. Boo-hoo. " Jack looked at him "You're a mess. So we've all had one. But don't ask me to feel sorry for you. You've made a mess. And instead of trying to clean it up, you're hiding in your hole like a coward."

Callie had watched all this with a certain degree of shock on her face. She admitted that a dressing down might've work, but this was downright bloody.

"And rather than ask for help, you decide to ruin everybody else who comes to try." Jack told him. "I mean, you want to screw yourself over, fine. But don't take the rest of the hospital down with you. Try to limit the damage to yourself. You owe us that, at least."

He got to his feet, and turned to Callie. "I'll drive the two of you home. And get in touch with Miranda. She's worried sick, too."

He started to the door.

"I was too happy."

Derek had said the last words so quietly Jack almost didn't think he'd heard them. "Excuse me?"

"I was about to propose to her. I got my father's ring, and I was trying to set it up right." Derek was a little louder now. "And I wasn't paying attention when I went into surgery. I was too fast, and I made a mistake. And then, I kept trying to overcorrect things, and then she died. Twenty-seven years old." He turned his head. "Her husband's a widower, and her daughter will grow up without her mother. All because I was too happy."

"You thought you could fix everything," Jack turned around. "I spent almost my entire career as a surgeon, trying to fix everything. I took every case too personally. I ended up marrying a patient because she said I fixed her. When my marriage when in the crapper, I kept trying to fix that, too. I became a loner and a drunk. And the only thing surviving an airplane crash seemed to do was make it easier for me to go around fixing everything. I just never realized that I was who needed to be fixed."

He sat back down. "I realize you're in a very dark place right now. But trust me when I tell you this Derek. You're nowhere near as broken as I was. Nothing you've done yet can't be reversed."

Derek looked Jack in the eye for the first time since he'd came into the trailer. "What about Meredith?"

Jack thought about this. "I found the woman I loved on the island. And then, when we came back, she disappeared. And for a year, I never thought I'd get over it. But she came back. And I know she'll wait for me. And there were far more obstacles in our path than have ever been in yours. Plus, by the way, she still loves you. That has to count for something, your histrionics aside."

Derek considered this for a moment. "Do you think she'd love me if I wasn't a surgeon any more?"

This wasn't what he wanted to hear. "If it really is love, I think she'd love you if you were a plumber. Just think about it."

Callie followed him out the door. "That was a lot better than what I did."

He turned to Callie. "I think you'd better page Meredith. Tell her to come down her to seal the deal."

'Why? That should work."

"I'm pretty damn sure that Meredith fell in love with him in _part_ because he was a great surgeon. And this hospital's going to need him back, as soon as possible."


	12. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

It would have been easy for Jin and Sun, after they had relocated to LA, to live the life of prosperity that he had once aspired to and she had once lived. After all, the settlement had left them financially secure, and they could have focused on being the parents to Ji Yeon that they had never had.

But after everything that they had gone through when they had been married, they knew that they couldn't live the life of a rich, leisurely couple. Jin had seen all too clearly what wealth could do to a man, and even if he didn't have anywhere close to the Paik family fortune, it was not the kind of life he wished to repeat. Sun knew just as well how oppressive wealth had made her mother, and she was determined that her daughter not live the same life..

So, after a few months and many conversations, they had each gone back to work.

Jin had spent his entire life before the plane crash ashamed that he had been the son of a fisherman. Then, after spending three months on an island in the Pacific, it turned out that his greatest shame had been key to their survival. A bigger surprise was how happy it had made him. After some discussion with Hurley, he had opened his own charter fishing boat in the harbor. Had he invested more of his own money, he could have opened a fleet. But even though being a 'businessman' for Paik Automotive had been horrible, the ambition of wanting to start something of his own and grow it to fruition still thrived in him. So he decided to start small with only two boats. Every couple of days he led one of the skiffs out on the water himself. There was a bit of a learning curve, considering that there were different fish here than in Korea, but after all, it was the same ocean.

Sun had her own ambitions. A lifetime ago, she had gotten a degree in art history, but her mother had pretty much suppressed that as an obstacle to getting a husband. Now, even though she was in a town that pretty much had galleries on every other corner, she decided to fly on her own anyway. This had taken a little more of an effort than Jin's aspiration - Hurley freely admitted the only art he really knew about involved dogs playing poker - but she had welcomed the extra effort. It was one of the few things she had ever done for her own benefit, not out of desperation.

After a couple of months, she found a location, and began to make contacts with Asian artists. Even more than a year after their return to civilization, being a survivor of Oceanic 815 still had some pull, and she was willing to use this celebrity to help get things done. She hired some people to help her with the basics of doing the maintenance, but Sun handled most of the work herself. It wasn't easy, and unlike Jin, she wasn't used to working this hard, but she found satisfaction in an honest day work.

One of the benefits to being the boss, of course, was that you could make your own hours. And though Jin and Sun both loved the idea of being independent, the lesson that they had taken from the island was that they should never take their love for granted. So, even though they had people watching Ji Yeon, they both made sure to be done with work at four o'clock every afternoon. The two would then go home, and spend the rest of the day together. They also made sure to take at least one day off every week so that they could be together with their friends.

And slowly but surely, their professional lives began to show fruit as well. Jin might not have been used to motorboats and expensive rods, but he was still a skilled sailor. He didn't flaunt his notoriety as much as his wife did, but word did get out that Jin Kwon was running marlin and yellowtail, and his charter business grew. Sun's gallery also became successful, especially when she began reaching out to women artists in the San Diego area. They were actually beginning to reach the levels of success they might have thought on their own.

"It's odd," Jin told his wife, as they put Ji Yeon down for her nap that day. "I spent all my life being ashamed of being a fisherman. It never even occurred to me to try and make a living at it."

Sun, who had known that her husband had been a fisherman's son before she'd agreed to marry him, wasn't that surprised. "It's different where we came from. Americans view this as something for fun. The ones here mostly don't think of trying to make a living from it."

"And the ones who do are struggling to survive." Jin was thoughtful. "Do you miss your mother?"

Even before they had relocated to Los Angeles, Sun had made more or less a clean break from both her parents. Her father wasn't a big deal - she knew very well how much he hated Jin - but her mother was a harder case. Sun had had a decent relationship with her growing up, but she'd been in a world of denial over what her husband did. Throughout the terrible times of their marriage, she had never even thought of confiding in her or even asking for help. It had been very telling that she had been willing to let her mother think she was dead when she had decided to make her escape.

"I don't know," she admitted. "She didn't think very much of you either," she reminded Jin.

"She was still your mother," Jin admitted. "And considering that I never even knew who mine was, I can't imagine how hard it is for you."

Even now, Sun had been reluctant to tell her husband about her encounter with the woman who had blackmailed her. It had practically destroyed her marriage before it began, and an argument could have been made that it had been the cause of everything that went wrong, but that wasn't why she hesitated. To know that the only reason his mother had come out of the woodwork was to blackmail her daughter-in-law might not be as bad as knowing what she had done in order to make sure her father had found out, but it was a very near question. As it was, it was in the past now.

"What brings this up?" she asked.

"I'm trying to decide whether or not to ask my father to come to America," Jin told her.

"Haven't you asked him before?" Sun reminded him.

"A couple of times," Jin said. "I'm wondering if keeps saying no because I was ashamed of him."

"Jin, from when we lived with him, he was never ashamed of you. He was willing to risk never seeing you again so that you and I could be happy."

"And maybe he feels guilty for that," Jin said. "After all, in his mind, that's why I was on the plane."

"And that's what saved us," Sun reached out and took her husband's hand. "That's why we have Ji Yeon. That's why we have everything."

Jin smiled - something he was doing more and more often these days. "He loves fishing. For him, it was never just about putting food on the table or a roof over our head. He loved going out on the water. He would always tell me 'the sea is where everything started. ' And as ambitious as I was, there was always part of me that loved it, too."

Sun gave a smile of her own. "I never saw you happier than when you were casting your nets."

"He's getting older. I want to take care of him. See that he can play with Ji Yeon." He paused. "Make up for what I did to him before all this. But he's a proud man."

"Just like his son. And I'm sure, given everything we've been through, he'd be willing to listen." Sun hesitated. "You think we should go back to try and talk him into it?"

Neither of them had been back to South Korea since they had moved. Like the other survivors, Jin and Sun had developed a severe phobia when it came to flying. In this case, however, they knew they'd have to make an exception.

"Probably," Jin said slowly. "Our lives were simple, but I can't ask him to pack it up on a phone call."

"I wouldn't expect us to." Sun admitted. "When would you want to go?"

"There's one big tour next week. Other than that, I can probably get away with leaving the company alone for the next few weeks." Jin hesitated. "When was that exhibit going to be?"

"End of the month," Sun was thinking. "But the really heavy planning isn't until the last few days before that."

"You sure?"

Sun smiled. "It's one of the benefits of being your own boss. We'll call Hurley. See if he can charter a plane like he did last time."

'First things first." Jin said. "I'd better make sure he knows we're coming."

Jin's village was a small one, and while the population hadn't changed much over time, most of the younger people - like him - tended to leave when they got older. As a result, much of the technology of the new century - and quite a bit of the previous one - had yet to touch. Internet service was next to none existent, and it was poor enough so that not all the villagers had telephones, and those who didn't get the same service they would in Seoul. As a result, Jin would going to have to send a letter, and even air mailed, it was going to take a few days to reach there. Jin didn't have a big objection to this, though. They would need the time.

Just then, Sun's cell rang. "Jack?" she said. "It's good to hear your voice."

"You don't have to act like we haven't talked for months." Jack told her good-naturedly.

"I know. It's just, you never call. We just see you every week."

Jack's tone changed. "That's why I'm calling. I tried calling Kate an hour ago, but I must have gotten the hours wrong. She didn't pick up." He heaved a sigh. "I need you to explain why I'm not going to see her this week."

Sun froze. This was serious. Until today, Jack had never missed a single visiting day with Kate. He'd made an arrangement with the hospital so that he could be free. "Don't tell me they're making you work an extra shift on this day."

"I wish it were that simple." Jack said grimly. "There's going to be a major surgery tomorrow. And as much as I need to see Kate, I made a promise that I would see this thing through, and I really think I have to keep it."

"I don't understand," Sun asked.

"Isabel Stevens has a Stage 3 carcinoma on her brain," Jack replied. "Derek operates tomorrow. And even if he does everything perfectly, there's a very good chance she'll die."

Hurley had only been in Callie's apartment once. Christina was her roommate right now, and from the few times that he'd seen her, he could tell that she was a woman who needed her space. The few times they'd spoken she'd been blunt and acerbic. Strangely enough, it mostly bounced off him. Hurley had always had thick skin. Besides, she reminded him of Sawyer.

So when Callie invited him into her apartment that night, Hurley had been a little nervous. He had an idea as to what was coming, and it unsettled him a bit - for reasons that he wasn't sure someone at this hospital was capable of understanding.

Which is why he was stunned about what Callie told him. And even more stunned about what she wanted to do.

"You want to dance it out. " He still wasn't sure he heard correctly.

"It's what Christina says she and Meredith always did when things got bad," she told him slowly. "Yang's not the kind of person capable of enjoying anything but work. I don't think she'd take a day off unless she was forced to. But she and Meredith have been through a lot over the last couple of years. I guess even type A's need to take a break every now and then. So, um, will you?"

Hurley was always an expert at people have fun. And he wanted to help Callie relax. So, for the next ten minutes, that was what they did. They leapt and swayed and boogied. He may have been way overweight, but, as had proved the case on the island over and over, he was spry.

After a few minutes, though, it was clear that this wasn't working for her. "I don't get it," Callie finally said. "I have hated Stevens' guts for the better part of a year. I may have even wished her dead a couple of time. But I never wanted it to happen."

Hurley couldn't help but agree, even though he kind of hated Izzie by proxy for the last couple of months. Jack hadn't seemed that fond of her, either, though it was for professional reasons he refused to go into.

"When I was in the hospital last year, when, uh, Claire's mom was having her surgery, Jack spent all his time assuring us that Derek was the best. I kind of got the feeling that this is the kind of thing he does."

"I know that you're not as foolish as you pretend to be, but there's a real difference between an aneurysm and the kind of tumor Stevens has," Callie told him. "You clip an aneurysm, the chances of their being a repercussion are there, but the recovery time can be quick. The kind of cancer Izzie has... even the best neurosurgeon in the world," she hesitated, "which Derek is one of, will need to be superb to get it all. And even if he is perfect, there's a very good chance of re-growth or some kind of recurrence. I'm in this business. I wouldn't wish this on my worst enemy, and Stevens is pretty close to it right now."

Jack had been troubled with something the last couple of weeks, and now he understood why he'd completed the unheard of sin of missing a day with Kate. "I'm guessing she knows how bad it is," he said slowly.

"She initially refused treatment," Callie said. "And even though we're sworn to believe in medicine no matter what, I can almost understand why. She's done her stint in the oncology ward. She knows what coming better than ninety percent of the people in the world."

She swallowed. Callie was remarkably stoic, and every time they'd talked about Izzie Stevens, she'd come close to shouting a couple of times. Now, it seemed, the woman who'd broken up her marriage was now bringing her to the verge of tears. "I had sex with Karev," she said suddenly.

It took a moment for Hurley to process this. He knew enough from the gossip that Jack had been sharing that Alex Karev had been what was politely referred to as a man-whore. It was clear that he and Izzie had a serious thing going, but while they were in a relationship, he'd had sex with a nurse, who at one point (God, keeping track of these hook-ups _did_ require a chart) had been sleeping with George. "While he was with Stevens?" he asked.

Callie shook her head. "I'd only been in the hospital a week. I hadn't even met George yet. I did an orthopedics consult for him, we worked together on the case, yada yada yada, we've barely even spoken since." She looked at him. "Hell, I don't even know if he bothered to keep track."

Now was not the time to tell her the answer was probably 'no'. "And you're feeling guilty about that?'

"I don't know," Callie said. "Like I told you, I have this ability to keep making the wrong choices. It happened with George, it happened with Sloan, God knows I made so many mistakes with Erica." She stared at Hurley. "This is the first time in a long time I feel like I've made the right choice."

She walked up to him, and kissed him. They'd kissed a couple of times before, but this was the first time where it seemed a lot deeper than any of their previous makeout sessions. In one sense, this was something that Hurley had wanted for a very long time. In another, there was something kind of terrifying about it. Pleasantly terrifying, but frightening all the same.

Halfway through, he momentarily pulled back. "There's something that I kind of think you should know before we, you know, go any further."

Callie seemed disappointed, which Hurley thought might be a good sign. Maybe. God he was confused. "Are you not into me?"

"Oh, hell no. I am, like, sooo into you," Hurley assured her. "It's just," he paused. "How do I say this? You're this woman who has, like, all this experience." He swallowed, determined to get this all out. "And I, like, have absolutely none."

Callie took this in for a moment. "Oh." She said slowly. Then, as if all of this was dawning on her for the first time. " _Oh."_

"Yeah." He looked into those beautiful brown eyes. "I hope you're not disappointed."

"Just a little surprised. I kind of figured, you know, after hitting the lottery that women would kind of have been throwing themselves at you."

"A few did." This was not something that Hurley had like dwelling on. There had, in fact, been for then a few girls who had tried to hook up with him after he'd hit the Megabucks, but he'd been afraid, after everything that started to go wrong immediately afterwards, that bad things would start happening to them, too. There had, in fact, been one obsessed girl who'd written letter after letter to meet him, and then the day she'd met him, she rushed across the street, and right into oncoming traffic. After the motorcycle hit her, she sued the driver, the city, and Hurley, and the judged had dismissed the suit him against him. Not that long afterwards, Starla had run off with Johnny. He'd stayed away from women until the crash

"And I mean, you were on a deserted island for three months. That's kind of like the scenario where you'd be sure to get laid." The moment she said that, Callie clapped her mouth shut. "I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking."

"It's fine." Hurley had mentioned Libby to Callie a week ago, saying that she'd been pretty close to being the one for him. "Actually, now that I think about it, there's wasn't, like, a lot of sex on the island. I mean, Jin and Sun had to have some, but they were married already. But there weren't a lot of hookups." He paused. "Except for Sawyer. I guess chicks really did dig that bad boy act."

"I guess when you're worried about killing your own food, getting some isn't exactly as high on the priority list." Callie paused. "Actually, I can understand where you're coming from on that part. I didn't get laid until my junior year in college."

This did come as a surprise. "Really?" Hurley said. "I mean, I didn't have the grades to get into even a community college, but I'm pretty sure everybody got laid their first semester at the latest."

"I was about thirty pounds heavier then," Callie told him "The curves were there, but they were pretty much hidden. And I was so focused on my end goal, which even then was becoming a doctor, that I didn't exactly go to a lot of keggers. I think it was maybe the second or third party went to while I was in college. Even then, I think it was the equivalent of a mercy-screw. Guy from one of my pre-med classes, really geeky, he was a virgin, too. So we basically did it, you know, to get it out of the way, so we could concentrate on more important things."

"How bad was it?" Hurley asked.

"Was fair. I think his expectations may have been higher than mine. But he was nice to me until college was over." Callie admitted. "During senior year, I was studying so hard I actually ended up eating a lot less. Which was a good thing, because I got my first glimpse of what a heart looks like after years of neglect. Let me tell you, that will send you on a crash diet."

"I might consider it some day," Hurley told her. "Hell, I couldn't lose weight on an island with no regular supply of food. I think I'm willing to try anything at this point."

Callie took his hand. "You know one thing I've noticed about you, Hugo," she said demurely. "You talk a lot when you're nervous."

"Believe me, if there's anyone I'd like to lose my virginity too, it's you," he told her enthusiastically. "It's just I'm kind of afraid I'm going to be, you know, lacking in comparison."

"Hurley, the first time is never as thrilling as they make it to be in the movies," Callie reminded him. "I'm just looking forward to the second time. And trust me, I'm fairly convinced there will be a second time."

"You really mean that?" Hurley asked.

"I didn't win the lotto or survive a plane crash," Callie told him. "But I know what it feels like to think you're cursed. I'm pretty sure that's how we met. But maybe, sometimes, everything happens for a reason."

This wasn't quite what Hurley wanted to hear from his girlfriend. "Actually, I'm inclined to believe, we make our own luck," he told her. "And you know something? I think in this case, I have."

"Well, then." Callie took his hand. "Let's find out."

"How long before they operate?"

"About an hour."

"You're not going to be in the room."

"I'll be in the observation wing." There was a pause. "Sayid?"

"I'm just a little shocked you're not going to be staring over the doctor's shoulder."

"Derek's already been under enough pressure coming back in. I didn't exactly help in our last conversation. The last thing he needs is me back-seat driving." Jack sighed. "Technically, he's already carrying the whole hospital on his shoulders."

"Realistically, what are Stevens' chances?"

"Not great. And she knows it." Jack was thinking of something his father had told him once. Maybe it fit the mood.

"I understand that things are not looking good, but I'm not entirely certain why you called."

"Two reasons. Even after everything that happened, Sayid, you're still the closest thing I have to a best friend. And that's what friends do. They talk to each other when things are at their darkest." Jack admitted. "And I haven't felt this helpless since Kate went on trial."

"You never mentioned Isabel Stevens that much before. I didn't think you even liked her that much."

"I didn't. Which somehow, makes this even worse." He took a deep breath. "The other reason I called. Aside from Claire, I don't know anyone else who prays regularly."

"I'd think your prayers would mean more than mine," Sayid pointed out.

"It's just", Jack was finding himself choked up, "even after everything that happened to us, I'm still not sure I believe in a higher power. But even while everything was, you still did."

Jack knew both of them were thinking about Locke for the first time in awhile. The man had been deluded, but he'd also had a faith that Jack had never been able to shake - despite his best efforts.

"She'll be in my prayers," Sayid said. "And so will you."

Jack saw that Derek was getting ready to wash up. " I'll call you and the others when I know something." He said his goodbyes.

Derek looked a little tense, which given everything that had happened the last few days, was understandable.

"If you're here to offer me a word of warning, save it," Derek's usually cheerful manner was more clipped. "Karev just reminded me to leave her temporal lobe where it was."

It was taking all of Jack's restraint to not start chewing out Alex. Yes, the woman he loved was suffering from cancer, and she was about to go under the knife. But Stevens had told Alex weeks ago that she was going through problems, and he'd told no one. He was a _doctor._ What had been wrong with him?

"The spinal surgery I performed that got me this job. I didn't think I could do it." He paused. "I told the patient that I was going to perform a radical surgery on her, but I suspected that there was next to no chance she'd ever walk again. My father heard me telling her, and said: 'Even there's a ninety-nine percent chance that their totally, utterly screwed. the patient is more likely to hang on to the one percent possibility they'll be okay.' I told him that's false hope. He said: 'Yes, but it's still _hope.'"_

Derek was listening. Even more than he had when Jack had chewed him out three days earlier. "I performed the surgery. But I was more inclined to believe that nothing had change. So I ran a Tour De Stade to clear my head. I twisted my ankle, and this other guy, who'd basically been running the same route, but I'd ignored him. He got a medkit and helped me tape it up, and we had one of those conversations you have with strangers when you can't talk to anyone else. He told me he was prepping for a race around the world, and he asked me why I was running like the devil was after me. And I told him that it would take a miracle to help this patient. He told me: 'What if it did?' I said it was impossible, he said 'Even if it was, let's say its not.'. I humored him, and he said he'd see me in another life. Which is exactly when he did.'

Now Derek was shocked. "What? When?'

"That's a story for another day." Jack told him. "Anyway, I went back to the hospital room, apologized to her that the surgery was unsuccessful. And then, she started wiggling her toes. Even then, I had trouble believing it, because I didn't believe in miracles. But I know now that we can make the impossible, possible. We just have to believe. In ourselves."

Derek looked at him. "Do you believe it's possible?"

"I know how remote the odds are. I also know that sometimes we have to go beyond what medicine can tell us." Jack put his hand on Derek's shoulder. "Izzie believes in you. I believe in you. And so does Meredith."

A bit of Derek's old charm was back. "You didn't seem to have much faith in me a couple of days ago."

"In my defense, I was pretty pissed at you." Jack reminded him. "Forget what everybody in the hospital is thinking. Remember your training. Just focus on the patient."

Derek seemed to get it. "Who was the guy?" he asked.

"His name is Desmond Hume, and once you've fixed Stevens, I'll tell you when I saw him next." Jack actually smiled. "Believe me, it's a hell of a story."

He knew he'd used the word that had caused him so much personal grief. Jack also knew that , in this case, he had needed to say it. And now that he had, he thought of one more thing that he had to do.

They were about ten minutes from having to put Stevens under. All of the residents from her group were outside her room, except for Alex. Miranda was there too, and from the look of things, she seemed to be doing her damnedest to blink back tears. That was even scarier than what Stevens was about to undergo.

"I guess the rumors were true," Jack said. "The Blue Fairy's been here."

He'd used this joke before. Miranda actually smiled this time. "I've been trying to tell her things will be okay. That she's going to get through this. That she's going to be studying again in no time. But I'm not sure she believes it."

"I figured as much," Jack admitted. "Look, I've been through a lot with her the last few months. Maybe I can say something that'll give her a reason to live."

"Go ahead," Miranda was drawn back to herself. "But make it quick. They'll be down here any minute."

Jack really didn't want to interfere with the personal time between Izzie and Alex. He knew, just as well everyone else, they might not get another chance. But he'd already given a pep talk to her surgeon. He would be remiss if he didn't do the same to his patient.

When he walked in, and saw Stevens with her shaved head, looking a lot paler than she ever had, he almost felt the better of it. Then he decided, he wanted to do this.

Alex looked up for this, and his appearance instantly made Jack decide not to chew him out. He clearly had been crying, and Karev had _never_ done that in all the time he'd known him. "How much longer?" he asked.

"A few more minutes," he told them. "There's something I wanted to say to your girlfriend, and well, you might as well hear it, too."

Stevens was trying to put on a brave face.

"I've been lying to the world."

That clearly hadn't been what either of them had expected to hear. "Excuse me."

"All of us. Claire, Hurley, Kate, all of the Oceanics. None of us have told the truth about what happened after the plane crash."

For the first time in Jack didn't know how long, he saw something other than doom cross Stevens face. "What are you talking about, Jack?"

"There were things that happened to us that were so bizarre, so utterly unscientific, that we as a group decided that the rest of the world couldn't know, because then they'd say we were all crazy, and throw us in the psych ward." Jack swallowed. "Even now, I still can't begin to explain half of what I saw. I've managed to compartmentalize over the past couple of years, and I've told a few details here and there to some of the people at this hospital."

"Like what happened with what you told me?" Stevens asked.

"That was the literal tip of the iceberg." Jack knew he shouldn't be saying this, but at the same time, it was such a relief. "When you come out of this surgery, I will be waiting. And I will tell you and Alex everything that happened to me, from the moment I woke up to the day we flew back into Hawaii."

Karev looked a little suspicious. "You're just making stuff up. Trying to give some false story."

"No. What we've been saying. That's the lie. You'll probably doubt my sanity when I'm finished, but considering what's been happening the last few months to you guys," Jack shrugged, "it'll probably be a refreshing change."

"What makes you think that'll be enough?" Izzie asked.

Jack almost laughed. "Because it's a long goddamn story."

The next several hours were nerve-wracking for everybody in the hospital. It seemed like half the surgical staff and all the interns were watching Derek, Meredith and the rest of the team operate on Isabel Stevens.

Jack felt helpless, and for someone like him, the loss of control was almost as terrifying as the very real possibility that Izzie was going to die. He tried counting to five, but for the first time in a long time, it didn't seem to be enough. Maybe it was because he couldn't take control.

Five excruciating hours later, Derek closed her up. He'd gotten the tumor, but they all knew that this was just the start of the battle. A lot of this was going to depend on her waking up. From then on, it was going to be a long battle.

Even though they'd all been up for hours, nobody went home. Derek disappeared, which was odd. And then Hurley showed up, which wasn't. He wasn't alone, either.

"Okay, um, just set the stuff down here," he told the Mr. Cluck's deliverymen. There were five of them, each carrying four large buckets. "Look, I know you guys are all worried, and probably none of you feel like eating, but I know she wouldn't want you to starve."

Addison was the first to react. "You got any of the honey mustard?"

"Got them to bring all the dipping sauces they had." Hurley assured her.

Addison picked out a drumstick. Slowly, most of the interns and residents followed. Sloane actually slapped him on the shoulder. "Knew I liked you, Reyes."

Jack prepared a plate of his own. "Thanks for doing this, Hurley."

"No problem, dude." Hurley looked at him. "How are you doing?"

"Been a long couple weeks," he admitted. "And the next few are probably going to be even longer."

Jack hesitated. "How'd your parents react when you told them about what happened?" He didn't have to mention what.

"They believed me. Ma said she didn't understand me, but she believed me." Hurley shook his head. "That's kinda what I wanted to talk to you about."

"You're going to tell Callie?" Jack knew that there relationship had been getting more and more serious the last couple of months.

"Told her bits and pieces." Hurley admitted. "Figured I'd tell her the whole thing once we knew one way or another about what happened with Izzie." He looked at her. "Who are you going to tell?"

"Derek. Maybe someone else." Jack told them. "Depends how the next few hours come out." He turned to Hurley. "I've known these people for the last year and a half. It hasn't been as nearly as intense as what all of us went through, but I think they deserve to know."

Hurley considered this, no doubt realizing that this was the guy who'd said they shouldn't tell the world in the first place. "We should probably tell the rest of them."

Jack nodded. "Next time we get together for dinner, I'll bring it up."

Several major events happened in the next three hours, all connected and only some of them public knowledge to the rest of Seattle Grace.

Izzie Stevens woke up from her surgery. Derek had gotten all of the tumor. He commemorated it by filling one of the elevator in the hospital with medical charts of every successful procedure that he and Meredith had worked on the last three years. And at the end of it, he proposed to her.

Slightly less known was the fact that Christina, who had spent the last several months dating Owen formerly broke up with him. Hurley could've attested to that himself. Less than an hour after he and Callie had consummated their relationship, they had been roused from their slumber to find that Owen had been strangling Christina in his sleep, and didn't seem to know he'd been doing it. It was that which forced him to finally acknowledge he was suffering from PTSD, and went to the MRI that very night.

And a few hours after Stevens had woken up, and finally most of the hospital was back to its normal work, that Jack went into Stevens room, and pulled up a chair.

"It's okay if you don't believe me," he told her and Alex. "Like I said, I lived through it, and I still don't believe most of it happened. And there are large chunks of the story that I wasn't party too, which makes some of it unreliable. All I can tell you is what I saw."

"Shouldn't this start with: 'Once upon a time?" Karev said.

"Well, there are segments that make you feel like you've gone down the rabbit hole." Jack said.

"Just start talking," Stevens said. "We'll see if it's worth the build-up."

Jack nodded. "The first thing I remember is waking up in a forest of bamboo..."


	13. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

At his heart, Miles Straume was a cynical man. He'd never known who his father was, and any time he'd tried to ask his mother about him, she'd refused to tell him anything, even when she'd been dying of cancer. Ever since he was ten years old, he'd been possessed of the ability to hear the voices of the dead. But rather than tell him anything useful, all he could hear was the last thing the ghosts were thinking of before they met their end. Understandably, his childhood hadn't been a lot of fun, and he'd spent most of his teenage years going through a punk rock phase. When it came time to chose his career, he had decided to make a living off the fools and idiots who wanted to know about the last thing their aunt Mabel had thought before 'leaving this earth'. Thank God he lived in California. He had little respect for the dead, and even less for the living.

When a survivor from Oceanic 815 had come up on his doorstep, told him that he and his fellow passengers were lying about everything that had happened to them, and that he wanted to recruit him for a dangerous, secret mission, somebody - anybody - would've reacted by wanted to know more about what happened. All Miles had seen was the suitcase full of cash that was his 'retainer', and that by offering to assist them, he would make more than he could in a lifetime of telling hippies about the next 'plateau'. Even the fact that he was going to go undercover with one of the biggest industrialists in the world should have given him some pause. Miles just wasn't wired that way.

But, now that he'd been part of this 'operation' for nearly a month, he was starting to have real doubts about just how deep he seemed to be in. It wasn't the fact that his 'credentials' had been provided from what appeared to be a notorious Korean 'businessman' had managed to get him a job in procurement at Widmore Industries Los Angeles Office. It was that he was only now beginning to get a handle on how at risk even a low-level employee at this company seemed to be.

In retrospect, he should have probably learned more about Charles Widmore than what was on his Wikipedia page. The fact that the most comprehensive information source on the Internet had some very suspicious holes in his biography should have been his first clue. Widmore was born in 1937, had been raised in British Boarding Schools, had attending some of the more advanced finishing schools in London, had married Sarah Milton in 1977, one daughter, Penelope. Had made his first million dollars in 1980, and through an almost uncanny series of investments, was by the beginning of the 1990a, one of the wealthiest men in the world.

Except no one seemed to know what he had done after graduating Oxford. Sarah Milton had died of cancer, when her daughter was three, but there was no record of how they had met, or why she had died so suddenly. No one knew where he had gotten his initial seed money - the closest anyone could gather was that he had dealing with the mysterious Norwegian industrialist Alvar Hanso, who had also mysteriously vanished in the mid 80s. And when you tried to find records of people who he had invested with, a lot of them also turned up dead. Charles Widmore was a ghost on the Fortune 500, and that was before you considered that up until 1988, he would mysteriously disappear from London on 'sabbaticals' for weeks or months at a time, with no explanation.

He'd never even laid eyes on Charles Widmore, and privately Miles was beginning to hope he never did, mission aside. He didn't know if Widmore had somehow been responsible for Oceanic 815 crashing, but it was beginning to seem within the realm of possibility. There was nothing that he could concretely prove, but there was a pretty big offshoot of the company that seemed unusually fascinated with the South Pacific. Miles had met one employee for drinks a week ago, and after a few rounds of scotch, he had told him that there was an entire branch of Widmore, whose sole goal was to get any information possible about a slave ship from Portsmouth known as the _Black Rock_ that had mysteriously disappeared in 1867. The employee just found that this was the folly of an old man. Miles would've thought the same thing - except when the man had slip that the Captain of the missing ship had been Magnus Hanso. Miles had then bought then the next two rounds, before leaving in a cold sweat.

"What kind of shit have you gotten me mixed up in?" he demanded of Sayid when he contacted him later that week.

When he had agreed to this mission two days after James Ford had come to his door, Sayid had made it clear that he would be his contact. They'd then spent the next couple of days where Sayid had given him a crash course in dead drops, scrambled cell phone, and emergency code words. The guy was unsettling, which for some strange reason gave Miles more confidence - at least there was somebody in this op who wasn't an amateur.

"We made it very clear that this kind of job was not for the squeamish," Sayid reminded him.

"And I'm not backing out. But this Widmore guy seems to be some kind of mystic or something." He told him what he knew. "I'm not saying he put that plane on the bottom of the Pacific, but he certainly seems capable of it. What the fuck is on that island?"

"Nothing that any of us wanted. This doesn't mean there isn't something valuable on it." Sayid admitted. "Have you made any progress on what we discussed?"

"I'm still not in deep enough to know what the hell the company's up to," Miles told him. "But there is one thing I found out that is suspicious. Something that would be easier for you to follow up on then me."

He looked through one of the papers. "Widmore has been back-channeling money to a number of properties. One of them is a church in LA. Now since this man seems as close to the biggest atheist as I've ever seen, there's obviously something deeper there. And I mean literally. There's what can only appear to be a cavern under it. Now maybe it's guarding the Shroud of Turin, but I doubt it like hell."

Sayid considered this. "Any details about the ownership?"

"Someone named Eloise Hawking. No obvious other connection. "Miles gave him the address.

"Why can't you check this out yourself?"

"Look, I may not be a bad-ass ex-Republican Guard, but I'm sharp enough to know when I'm being tailed. Apparently, Widmore has security people following everybody on his payroll the first few weeks. This guy has serious trust issues."

Sayid considered this. "You're using the techniques we went over?"

"If anything, this has made even more careful," Miles admitted. "One more thing. How close was this guy to his daughter?"

"In the most misguided sense of the term. Has he made any effort to locate her?"

"That's the oddest thing yet, and that's saying something." Miles told him "On the company bio, there doesn't even seem to be a record that Penelope Widmore even existed. It's like he abandoned her before she could abandon him."

"It's more complicated than that," Sayid told him. "Perhaps in a perverse way, he believes he's protecting her."

"From what."

"Probably him." Sayid wasn't telling him everything he knew, and frankly, Miles didn't want to get any deeper into this soap opera than he had to. "Destroy the phone, and stay safe."

 _Stay safe. I'm working for Montgomery Burns, and he wants me to stay safe._ If he'd known Sayid as well as his friends did, he might have realized that this was a remark of great concern on the Iraqi's part. As it was, Miles just hung up, broke the phone he was using in two, and tossed in the water.

As always, he looked around everywhere, waiting to see if he heard the rush of voices that followed him when his 'gift' was in working order. It always had been strange - most times, he needed a body for it to work. But when the dead person was associated very strongly with a certain place, he could hear something. And on rare occasions - very rare, thank whatever was watching him - he could associate them with certain people. He hadn't met anybody at Widmore yet that caused his alarm bells to go off, but he hadn't been there that long.

Nothing had happened yet, but Miles still couldn't shake the sensation he was being followed. The man who'd been responsible for his hiring - a corporate recruiter named Matthew Abaddon - had said all the right things about him being the right man for the job. He'd only seen the man in passing a couple of times, but there was something about him. Something that gave Miles the impression that he knew where the bodies were buried. He'd mentioned him once to Sayid, but hadn't followed up on it.

There was just something about the man that gave Miles the impression that he wouldn't want to hear whatever those bodies had to say.

"Have you made any progress?"

"I've had to maintain a discreet distance."

"I told you to find out if this new man had any connection to Benjamin Linus. You've done nothing to resolve my fears. If you don't make progress soon, Mr. Abaddon, I'll have no choice but to find another way to resolve them."

The voice on the other end hung up. Abaddon's expression didn't change at all. They might think he worked for Mr. Widmore, but he had a far greater obligation. His job was to get people where they needed to be.

And right now, he had to make sure that Eloise Hawking finally got involved.

"You're serious?" Isabel had a look of amusement not normally associated with someone undergoing chemotherapy.

"I am a doctor, after all," Jack was smiling himself at the memory - something he usually didn't do in connection with the days after the plane crash.

"You put up a golf course. After a plane crash." Alex was having trouble believing it himself.

"Technically speaking, that was Hurley, not me." Jack told them. "Honestly, we should've put him in the charge. The guy did a hell of a job keeping everybody happy. And ultimately, that might have been just as important as keeping them alive."

Jack had been as good as his word. With the exception of his visits to Kate, which he continued to follow up on religiously, every day he made time out of his schedule, and went to see Izzie and Alex during every cycle of chemo to tell them about what had happened on the island.

He had expected more of an obstacle from the rest of the group, with the exception of Hurley. Surprisingly, none of them had had much of a problem with it. Sayid had already told Nadia everything that had happened, so he couldn't make much of an argument when it came to sharing. Claire had thought that, given everything that had happened at the hospital the last couple of years, the people at Seattle Grace deserved to know more than the bare bones. Juliet had merely suggested that they try to keep this under the loose heading of doctor-patient privilege. Sawyer had said that, considering how people were after them to sell their stories, to give it away was actually generous. And Kate had never seen much point of lying in the first place.

Strangely enough, the one who had put up the greatest objection was Sun. "Do you really think it's a good idea for you to play Scherezade?" she'd asked.

"If you remember the legend, Sun, it worked in that case," Sayid pointed out.

"Different circumstances," Sun reminded him. "Storytelling doesn't beat disease."

"I know," Jack admitted. "And the old Jack Shephard probably would've dismissed the idea outright. But there does come a point where we have to leave medicine behind. I want to try anyway, and I think she and Karev will be the best audience for it."

Sun considered this. "We did this because you said it would be best," she reminded him. "If you think it's worth it to tell the people at your hospital, we'll support you. Just try not to get your hopes up."

"That's kind of what they need," Jack said sadly. "Hope."

"It was honestly the first chance any of us had really had to have any kind of fun on the island," Jack told her. "We were all relaxed, and feeling – I realize to hesitate to use the word considering the situation – normal. I remember that pretty well. Because it was the last time for a long time that we would feel safe."

Jack had never felt himself much of a storyteller, but he was clearly doing a good job because he had Alex and Isabel on the edge of their seats. "What happened?" Alex asked.

"While this was going on, Sayid had been mapping the island. Somehow he found this wire extending the length of the beach." Jack held up his hand. "Trust me, I'll get there. He followed, and found something that was out of place, and then he ended up getting caught in a snare."

He then related much of what happened, until it became clear that Sayid had found the Frenchwoman who had made the original distress call. When Jack mentioned that her name was Danielle Rousseau, he got a reaction that he really hadn't been expecting. "Seriously? Rousseau?" Izzie said. "You're not going to tell me there was an old hermit on the island named Hobbes too?"

Jack was a little flummoxed by this. Nor was he the only one. Alex was looking at her a little blankly. "Come on? John Locke? Rousseau? The Enlightenment?"

"Iz, what are you talking about?" Alex asked gently.

"I guess this is what being a nerd feels like." Izzie said. "When I earned the money to go to college, I hadn't locked on yet to the idea of being a doctor. So, I decided to go for the whole experience, and I took a couple of liberal arts courses freshman year. One of them was Intro to Philosophy, because I guess having been a model I guess I had something else to fall back on."

"Philosophy?" Alex shook his head. "Iz, that's got to be a bigger waste of time than Psych."

"Yeah, and I figured that out after about a week. I don't know why I was so determined to stick with it; maybe to prove I wasn't just a blonde bimbo. And I'll be honest; most of it disappeared from my mind well before McDreamy chopped a hole in my skull." Jack wasn't sure whether hearing her dismiss her brain surgery so casually was either a good sign or a bad one. "But one of the things that did stick with me was the English philosophers, I guess because I could tie it to our history, and make _some_ sense of what I just heard, and I remember Mr. Welch stressing the three major philosophers."

Jack had never studied any philosophy, but he figured anything that gave Izzie a chance to make sure that her brain was still functioning properly at all was something that should be encouraged. "What do you remember about that?"

"This is ten years out of date, and you have to remember that most of this stuff went way over my head at the time," Izzie tried to hedge. "But give me a minute to think." She took a minute. "Most of it had to do with nature. Locke believed that man was basically good, experience changed him, that given the right choice, man would do the morally correct thing. Hobbes believed that man was basically evil, and if left to his own devices would destroy each other. Thought free will was a bad idea. Rousseau had something of a middle ground, man wasn't good or evil, but within society he was easily corrupted."

Alex was looking a little amazed. "You remember all that ten years later?"

"Believe me, that's about _all_ I remember of those three guys." Izzie shook her head. "That's not even the Cliff Notes version. I have to tell you, after just trying to read five pages of that stuff, memorizing how the immune system would respond to antibiotics were easier." She looked Jack. "You were on an island with this guy for three months, and you never even asked him about his name?"

"Honestly," Jack told them. "I don't think we ever engaged in a conversation that wasn't about saving our lives or something far more hostile." He thought for a moment. "I'm going to skip ahead a bit now, not because I'm afraid you won't be around to hear it later, but because I think you need to understand this when I tell you the rest of the story."

Alex and Izzie both nodded. "There were worse people on the island than him, far worse actually, but I think the only person I ever really hated on the island was Locke. And while there are justifiable reasons for not liking most of the people there, the only reason I didn't care for him was philosophical."

"Well, I did take a course on it," Izzie said jokingly.

"We had this conversation – I'll get back to it, because it was kind of important – about a month after this happened. A lot of stuff had gone down, and he finally told me that all of us, everybody who'd survived the crash, were there for a reason. That it was 'our destiny'. I told him I didn't believe in destiny. And Locke looked at me, and said: "Yes you do, Jack. You just don't know it yet."

"Ah, fate versus free will. Almost every philosopher, religion, and concert musician takes a swing at that one." Izzie told him. "And while I'd think being stranded on a tropical island was a good reason to discuss the meaning of life, you basically thought it was so much bullshit."

"Given the circumstances, yes." Jack told him.

Alex, who'd been mostly quiet through this part, finally spoke up. "I can't help but notice that he didn't come back to civilization with you. Did he just not survive the island?"

Jack considered this for a moment. Of all the secrets he'd withheld about what had happened to them on the island, he left this part out the longest. Not because it even ranked even in the top five of the weird shit that they had all seen, but because that particular decision had always bothered him the most. But, now that he was about to tell the story, he figured he owed them the truth.

"There were a lot of deaths among the survivors" he said slowly. "But some of the people who survived everything that happened decided not to come back with us. And one of them was John Locke. When we were about to leave the island for good, the man did everything short of getting on his knees and begging us not to leave, that there was a reason for us all to be here, and we'd regret it if we did. My friends – all of whom you've seen here- ignored him. But a few did stay behind, and all of them did so without a gun to their heads."

"Why the hell would they do that?" Alex demanded.

"They said that there was something special about the island," Jack shook his head. "Locke in particular came back to that point over and over again. And while I'm more than willing to admit that there was something _strange_ about it = believe me, I will get to that in some detail – I never saw anything about it that would make me want to stay."

"Maybe he just had nothing to come back for," Izzie told him.

"I thought about that. A lot. But the only thing waiting for Kate in civilization was a pair of handcuffs. And Sawyer – I didn't learn his real name for quite some time - was a con man who had burned just about every bridge he ever built." Jack reminded them. "Kate did just about everything possible to get us rescued. And though Sawyer tried to make a home, he busted his ass to help whenever he could in the end. Locke did everything he could to keep us on that island. And I never understood why."

"The guy could've just had a screw loose," Alex pointed out.

"We all know that's not the medically correct term," Izzie said in that same jesting tone.

Jack nodded, though. "He definitely wasn't stable. And honestly, it was some kind of religious mania more than anything else. He always said he was a man of faith. And his God, for whatever reason, seemed to be the island. "

He trailed off. "I guess you're wondering why I have so much baggage about a man I basically loathed."

"Hey, I get it," Alex told them. "We're surgeons. We're taught to believe that science holds all the answers. I can't tell you how many times I've run up against people who don't think that medicine alone will solve their problems, and it bugs the living shit out of me."

"I know," Jack admitted. "And I have to admit, like so much mania, there was something strangely appealing about it. After all, forty-eight of us walked away from a plane crash with only minor injuries. That is hard to fathom. But the idea that somehow we were chosen to survive it, that negates the lives of everybody who died on impact as some kind of acceptable collateral damage. Locke was _fine_ with that. The rest of us weren't."

"Then you're probably better off without him," Izzie told him. "While I'll admit he sounds like an interesting man, he also strikes me as just a little bit crazy. Does that make him the villain of the piece?"

"Villain, no," Jack thought for a moment. "But he's definitely the antagonist. And as you'll see, he doesn't even become that for quite some time. If I may be allowed to continue."

"By all means," Izzie replied, trying to get comfortable with her drip. "What exactly did Sayid learn from Rousseau?"

"Something that would forever change how we looked at the island."

Two days later, when the group was meeting for their weekly dinner, Jack was updating them all on Izzie's progress. The news was generally good – the last cycle of chemo had been doing a pretty good job at reducing what was left of the affected area, and her morale was generally better than it had been the last couple of weeks.

"How far along are you in the Island Nights?" James asked.

"Claire's just been kidnapped," Jack told them gently. "Not exactly a great time for any of us."

Claire looked at Juliet. "How much of what you told the others was true?" she asked.

"Almost all of it," Juliet admitted. "Ethan was using you as a control subject, trying to test out a vaccine. And once you learned about the deception, he did take you for the purpose of carrying out experiments. However, there was one detail that I left out, mainly because I didn't learn about it until a few weeks later. A couple of days before you managed to escape, Ben ordered that an implant be placed under your skin. It was supposed to act as a tracking device, in case you tried to escape."

Sayid had always hated Ben Linus, and this was just another reason to add the pile. "That was never the device's sole purpose, was it?"

As always, Juliet looked Sayid dead in the eye. "Of course not. We knew where you were. It was always a matter of coming to find you. No, in case Claire ever got – troublesome – the implant would dump a toxin into her immune system. In case you tried to run, you wouldn't be a problem for long."

"And when you returned to our camp, he activated it, so that there would be a crisis for you to solve, and make you the hero." Sayid shook his head. "There are many things I regret about my actions when I was on the island. By far, the greatest is that I never snapped Ben's neck when I had the chance."

"Couldn't agree more, Cowboy." James told him. "Look on the bright side."

"Which is?"

"Before we left that hell in Paradise, you, me and the Doc each laid a hell of an ass-whupping on him," James looked at Jack. "The guy's probably got a crapload of old scars on him that'll never go away."

Juliet had a strange look on her face that Jack wasn't sure that he could fathom. So he decided to change the subject – slightly. "I've been thinking about Locke a lot as I started telling the story," he began.

"So have I," Hurley admitted. "For the same reason."

"I hated the man's guts for a long time," Jack said slowly. "And now, looking back on it, I've never been sure why."

"Let's see," James started. "He got Boone killed, he blew up just about everything that could've gotten us rescued, he defected to the Others… how much longer does the list need to be?"

"I know," Jack said, "but if I'm being honest, I never much cared for the man before he did all of that. And up until he lied to me about Boone, we were pretty much on the same page on everything."

"He always treated me well," Claire reminded them. "He built the cradle for Aaron, helped me in the first couple of weeks after he was born when I was on the outs with Charlie." She shook her head. "But you're right. I never felt entirely comfortable around him."

"The guy was always off by himself," Hurley spoke up. "I mean, sure, he helped hunt for food and forage for water. But the guy always seemed to have his own agenda. He seemed more interested in dying alone rather than doing _anything_ together."

There was a silence as they considered this. Then Hurley turned to the one person who had remained silent through much of the conversation. "Walt, what did you think of him?"

Jack had almost forgotten that, until the raft had left the island, Locke had gotten along better with Walt than just about any of them.

Walt considered this very seriously. "He always treated me like I wasn't a kid," he said slowly. "I mean, I was a kid, but he always treated me as an equal. I don't think Dad ever liked that."

James was actually interested now. "He ever tell you any secrets while the two of you were playing backgammon?"

Walt looked a little shocked. "Sort of. The first real conversation we had, he just kind of blurted out: 'Do you want to know a secret?' And then he told me a miracle happened here."

Jack was now genuinely intrigued. "He ever say what he meant by that?"

Walt shook his head. "Dad thought he was talking about surviving the plane crash. But I always thought that he meant something more than that."

Ever since he had relocated to LA, the rest of the Oceanics had been very delicate when it came to discussing Walt's gift. They knew that the young man was still a little embarrassed about being 'special', and that they had been helping him through it. Reluctantly, however, Sayid decided to ask. "Did you ever read anything off him?"

"Closest I got was the day before we left. He took my hand, and I knew about the hatch, and what he was planning to do." Walt told them. "That's about all I ever learned."

James turned to Juliet. "What about Fearless Leader? He was keeping files on all of us; you ever get a look at Locke's?"

Juliet considered this seriously for a moment. "Most of your files I read second hand. But Ben never shared what was in Locke's. What I _do_ know is that there was something in it that really interested him. Richard, too, for that matter. That's why he made such a big push to 'recruit' him."

James then went very quiet. "I may know what that was."

Juliet looked concerned. "Does this have anything to do with what happened in the _Black Rock?"_ James nodded. "You don't have to tell them if you don't want to. I'd completely understand."

"No, Jules. I've kept this part of it long enough. You guys deserve to know." He took a deep breath. "You guys may change your mind about being friends with me when you hear this."

"We all did horrible before and when we were on the island," Sayid reminded him. "There's no judgment here."

James took a deep breath. "You all know what happened to my parents," James began slowly. "Got conned out of their life savings, and my dad killed my mom and himself. I spent nearly thirty years trying to find him." Now came the hard part. "And I found him on the island."

He held up his hand. "About two days before the Others did their raid on the camp, Locke came to me in the middle of the night. Said he kidnapped Ben, and wanted me to kill him. I followed him out to the Black Rock where he said he was holding Ben prisoner. All the way there he kept telling me how sorry he was for everything that had happened to my family. Kept calling me 'James' and I kept getting pissed. Finally, we got to the Black Rock, he took me to the brig, and he locked me in there. Only it wasn't Ben he was holding. It was Locke's father."

Considering all of the crap that had happened on the island, it was rather remarkable that they still had the capability to be shocked. Everybody else in the group – with one big exception – started talking at once, trying to figure out how the hell this happened. After a couple of minutes of this – during which James had been absolutely silent – Jack finally asked the right question. "Why did Locke bring him to you?"

"I couldn't figure it out, either." James said slowly. "The guy kept saying that we were in hell, that somehow he had been in an auto accident in Tallahassee, and now he was dead. And the reason he knew he was dead was because his son, whose plane had been found at the bottom of the Pacific, was walking around. Then, and it was like the guy was boasting, he mentioned almost casually that he conned Locke out of a kidney."

Walt looked at him. "He was the man you wrote that letter to."

"Kid moves to the head of a class." James muttered. "Even said as much. So I gave him the letter. And just like every other damn fantasy in my hold goddamn life, it went to hell. He showed no remorse, even when he figured out who I was. He insulted my mom. And" James was swallowing now. "He tore up the letter. And I snapped. I picked up a chain, and strangled him until he was dead."

Just as it had been noisy five minutes earlier, there was dead silence now. Then Sayid walked over, and put his hand on his shoulder. "I realize what it's like to be driven," he told him. "And from what you've told me, Locke's father sounds like a horrible person. I understand why you did what you did."

Jin nodded. "It's hard to carry this kind of guilt with you," he said clearly. "I'm glad you confided."

Even Hurley seemed sympathetic.

"I've been carrying that shit around for awhile," James said slowly, "but that ain't the reason, I brought it up. See, before the guy told me why he was sure he was in hell was because his son was _walking_ through the jungle. And from what I understand, the last time he'd seen his son before the island was when he threw him out an eight-story window four years earlier. The fall didn't kill him, but it paralyzed him."

This shocked them in a completely different way. And Jack, who had managed to compartmentalize everything about the island for a couple of years, now began to truly what had been going on there. "I think you know what I'm going to say next, James," he said slowly.

'I know, you're a doctor – a goddamn spinal surgeon – and that kind of thing just plain don't happen," James told you. "And considering the source, I wasn't exactly inclined to buy it either. But considering all the shit that we saw on that island, you're not really going to try and Scully us now, are you?"

It was a fair point. And the fact was, if John Locke had been paralyzed and had been walking around the island, it would have explained his fanaticism about the place. But Jack wasn't sure he was willing to go that far. Not yet.

"Could the island have done something like that?" he asked Juliet, figuring she'd be the one who'd have the clearest idea.

"I don't know." Juliet told him. "Ben sold me on the island by saying it could cure any disease, and heal the sick. But he ended with a malignant tumor on his spine a week before you guys crashed, so I'm not sure how much we can trust in that."

"How many pregnant women died on the island?" Sun asked.

"Nine when I was there. Who knows how many before Ben and Richard Alpert recruited me." Juliet was still being somewhat pensive, but Jack decided to keep giving her space.

"Well, none of us got so much as a head cold the whole three months we were on the island," Hurley pointed out. "And Jin, you remember what that guy with the eye patch said after he treated Naomi?"

Jin thought for a moment. He'd still been struggling with English back then. "After he treated her, he said if we kept the wound clean, she'd been alright in about a day and a half. And she was better by then."

"Until John Boy threw a knife in her back," James was musing. "But if that was all it took, why'd the Marshal die? Doc did everything he could to treat him, and he went septic before…" He trailed off. Understandably, this wasn't something either he or Jack had been happy about.

"There's a simpler way to get answers," Sayid pointed out. He turned to James. "Do you know what Locke's father's name was?"

"Guy was a con man," James reminded them. "He gave me a bunch of names, but the only one I focused on was Tom Sawyer, for obvious reasons."

Despite everything that happened, Hurley couldn't help but chuckle a little at this. Even James smiled a little at this. "I know. Guy had only slightly more originality than I did." He thought for a second. "Only other name I remember that stuck with me was Anthony Cooper. Now, it's probably as phony as Tom Sawyer, but you gotta figure it made a blotter somewhere."

"And if Locke really was thrown from an eight-story window, he'd have to undergo major surgery," Sayid said turning to Jack.

Jack nodded. "Plus months of physical therapy, repeated doctor visits, he'd have to see a physician before he got on our plane."

"Then let's see if it's true." Sayid shook his head. "We didn't exactly do a great job of trying to find out if Locke had any family or friends who would've missed him when we came back."

"He told me and Kate he was raised in foster care," James reminded them. "And if that's who his father was, I can't imagine the rest of his family was looking for him that hard, either."

"Let's fact it," Hurley admitted. "We didn't press as hard as we did with most of the others who died, 'cause we just didn't like the guy. We owe it to him, just like all the ones who didn't come back."

They all knew that it really wasn't the same. The main reason they had tried to sweep Locke under the rug was because he'd pleaded so hard for the rest of them to stay, and there had been something in his surety that was unsettling. But Jack knew if they were to really make peace with everything that had happened to them, they had to solve the mystery of John Locke and whatever demons had driven him.

He just didn't hope they didn't regret it.


	14. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

"I must say, Dr. Burke –"

"Carlson." Juliet said firmly. "Burke was my ex-husband's name, and frankly, I think I held on to it far longer than I should have."

Weber nodded, no doubt thinking of how Addison had acted much the same way after her divorce had been finalized. "All right, Dr. Carlson, all I was going to tell you was that considering your reputation and the praise you're getting from most of our staff, your salary demands is more than reasonable."

"I know that you're going to have a hard time believing this, especially given your job, but money has never meant as much to be as helping people." Juliet told him. "What I value is freedom and the ability to give good news. This deal will allow me to have both."

Richard Weber had understandably been a little worked up when Addison Montgomery had told her that she would be working on reduced hours. He knew how badly she wanted to be a mother, and he'd never wanted to stand in the way of his attending's personal lives, but given everything that had been hitting the hospital the last several months, it couldn't have come at a worse time.

Fortunately, Addison had managed to come up with a more than adequate replacement. Juliet Burke, nee Carlson had been one of the top fertility specialists in the country until she had disappeared under the wing of Mittelos Bioscience almost five years ago. Addison had said that there had been criminal misuse of her research, which had made her gun-shy about raising her profile again. But considering that she had managed to do something miraculous in helping Addison become pregnant, it was clear that they could definitely use her aboard at Seattle Grace.

Jack Shephard, who seemed to deserve some kind of award for how much he'd helped the hospital the past year, had apparently been instrumental in helping the two make contact. While initially surprised that Juliet had agreed to work here, he didn't hesitate to sing her praises, saying that the two had worked together a few years back, and that she had an excellent bedside manner. His only surprise had been that she wanted to leave her family again.

"The reason I asked for the signing bonus wasn't so much for me, "she told him. "I want my sister and my nephew to relocate from Miami with me. They've been through hell the last couple of years, and I wouldn't feel right about leaving them behind again."

"They're willing to pick up their lives that easily?" Weber asked.

Juliet hesitated. She did that a lot. "Jack and Addison told me that I could count on your discretion," she said slowly.

"Of course," Weber told her.

"When I did my first procedure, I tested it on Rachel," she told him. "I was on shaky grounds ethically, but frankly that wasn't at the peak of my concern. All my sister ever wanted was to have a baby, and I cared less about keeping my license than I did about making her happy. When it worked, I was going to resign from my job, but my husband…" She trailed off. "You have to have known what Edmund was like."

"Only by reputation." Weber actually knew from more than a few meetings what an officious prick he was. After he'd died in a hit and run, a sick joke had floated around certain circles for awhile as to whether the bus was all right after running into Edmund Burke.

"I got into bed with Mittelos not long after, mainly because they offered me freedom. I'm not going to go into detail, but that's exactly what I didn't get," she said firmly. "It's a nightmare from which I'm only now beginning to awake."

Those were harsh words coming from anybody, especially about a medical research firm. Weber vaguely remembered that they had an office in Portland. Was that why it had taken so much persuasion to get Juliet to sign on?

"I've spent the last couple of years focusing on more important things," Juliet told him. "I realize given the work ethic connected with Seattle Grace that may not make me the ideal candidate for working here."

"It does make you stand out, but not necessarily in a bad way," Weber admitted. "I can't professionally advocate for it, but I can privately admire it."

"Rachel and I have spent too much time apart. It's in our interest for the two of us to stay together, and that's part of the reason I was willing to come. They're in the process of settling things there, and hopefully in a few weeks they'll be able to follow me out here." Juliet gave a more genuine smile. "The other reason is to be close to my friends."

"I saw you when we were operating on Carole Littleton last year," Weber admitted. "I see you have some connection with Jack and the other Oceanics."

"And if you're fortunate, in a little while, I might end up sharing all of the details," Juliet told him. "For now however, you're just going to have to accept that I've worked with Jack in the past, and that I've been close with most of the other survivors. My boyfriend was in favor of my relocating because it would make it easier to see the rest of his friends."

Weber knew that James Ford was Juliet's significant other. "This will give you something else in common with Jack."

"I'm almost afraid to ask," Juliet said, with a smaller grin.

"You and he are probably the only doctors in my entire hospital who aren't leaping into bed with somebody else on the staff." Weber replied.

Juliet couldn't help but chuckle at this. "Jack's been remarkably restrained about the gossip, but really I'm amazed it hasn't caused more headaches for you than it already has."

"It's been a mess, I'll admit." Weber told her. "We're slowly getting a handle on all our other problems, but this" He shook his head. "I try not to pay attention to the gossip or I'd get nothing done. But from what I have heard, a lot of the doctors here have been becoming more monogamous recently."

"That's not exactly going to be something you want to add to your outgoing prospectus," Juliet pointed out.

"I'll settle for just improving our medical reputation," Weber got to his feet. "Hopefully, you'll be able to improve that."

Jack and Addison were waiting outside when she finished signing her contract.

"I'd say welcome to the Seattle Grace family, but given the problems that you're no doubt already aware of, I'm actually afraid to consider how literally it could be taken," Addison replied.

Juliet looked a little alarmed at this. "Please tell me your residents haven't resorted to screwing patients," she said to Jack.

"I hope not," Addison admitted, "but some of them have pretty much been sleeping with everyone else."

Jack looked a little sheepish. "There's gossip, and then there's the stuff that is borderline malpractice," he told her.

"You're not still thinking about Sarah, are you?" Juliet asked.

Addison already knew this part of the story. "I'll admit it's on the border of some of the more egregious violations, but at least you didn't start your relationship with her until after she got out of the hospital."

Jack shook his head. "I'm kind of surprised Karev never called me on it before."

"Alex has had other things on his mind," Addison had her own reasons for not wanting to dwell on Karev.

Three years of living with Ben Linus had given Juliet a great gift for being able to make abrupt shifts in conversation. "When's your next session?" she asked Addison.

"Two days," Addison told them. "You'd think after years of helping women become pregnant I'd be a little more at ease when I was the patient."

"I'd have been stunned if you weren't worried," Jack pointed out. "We know how badly you want this. It's okay to be a little rattled."

"How's Sloane dealing with it?" Juliet was a little stunned – but also amused – that Addison had chosen the man who'd broken up her marriage to be her baby daddy. Really, this was _General Hospital_ squared.

"Honestly, I think he's more worked up than I am." Addison admitted. "He's made jokes about this being a second chance for him – maybe even a third by this point - and that's he finally using his sexual prowess for good, not evil, but I know he really wants to be a father. Even the idea of it is freaking him out a little. Not that he'd ever talk to me about it."

"And I'm guessing he's still not talking to Derek?" Though Derek had managed to make peace with just about everyone he wronged when he'd had his meltdown six weeks ago, he still hadn't even made an effort to talk to Mark. It was understandable – Derek had punched him in the face repeatedly, after all - and there was still no doubt a fair amount of animosity between the two. Nevertheless, Jack thought that there was still a lot of macho posturing going on. Considering how much of it he'd done in front of Sawyer, he really couldn't blame them.

"With those two, it's always one step forward, two steps back. Now I realize I'm a huge part of the problem, so my trying to talk to them probably will not go over particularly well, but seriously. Somebody needs to tell them they're acting like babies."

Jack considered this for a moment. "Maybe we can make this work by way of a game of telephone," he said slowly. "I'll have a conversation with Hurley later today. He'll talk with Callie, and she might be able to persuade Mark to talk it out with Derek."

"That's a little convoluted, even for here." Addison gently suggested. "Do you think it'll work?"

"Might be the easiest way to get the lines of communications open," Juliet told him. "Besides, Hurley's always been the diplomatic type. He probably could get the two of them at a summit by themselves."

Addison noticed the easy communication between Juliet and Jack. Both had told her they had a history, and something was telling her that it was deeper than the story they were telling everybody else. Well, except maybe for Stevens. "You are going to tell me how it is you really got to know all the other survivors," she asked bluntly.

Jack and Juliet exchanged another one of those glances that Addison couldn't read that she nevertheless recognized – she and Derek had exchanged similar glances when they were married. It was one of those inside jokes that people who have known each other for a long time tend to trade.

"Yes," Juliet finally said. "I'll tell you up front it's not a happy story, and it makes the saga of Seattle Grace seem positively simple by comparison. But I'll tell you."

Addison nodded. "There anything else you need me to show you to help you settle in?"

Juliet seemed a little more restrained. "Actually, there is. I was wondering if I could talk to Isabel Stevens."

This time Addison looked at Jack. Stevens was responding fairly well to her treatments, and her mood had gotten a lot better since her surgery, but aside from Jack and George, everyone else was still tiptoeing around her and Karev. Everyone knew how long the odds were, and they were acting like they were terrified of saying the wrong thing around her. It was kind of offensive.

Jack didn't seem to have a problem with this. "Your timings pretty good. Her next cycle of chemo isn't scheduled for another two days. I'll take you there now."

There was no way that a person could honestly enter a cancer ward, look at one of the patients, and say: "You're looking good." Both Jack and Juliet knew this firsthand, Juliet on a more personal level. Nevertheless, given everything she was going through at the time, Izzie Stevens didn't look that bad. Yes, she was very pale, she had a tube attached to her nose, and she was wearing the kerchief across her head that almost all women who were undergoing radiation did to hid the fact their heads were now shaven, but given some of the things they had seen, she seemed to be holding up pretty well. And she actually managed a smile when the two of them entered the room.

"Hey, Jack."

Juliet couldn't help but exchange a meaningful look at him. "So she's calling you Jack now," she said.

"I was part of the diagnostic team," he reminded her. "Considering everything we've been through the last couple of months, I think we're way past Dr. Shephard."

"Also, considering who my neurosurgeon was, there would probably be a lot of confusion," Izzie seemed to notice her guest. "I'm sorry, have we met before? You look familiar, but considering I'm still recovering from a hole in my head, I can't remember."

Her mood was cheerful. "Were you on the team when Carole Littleton was operated on?' Juliet asked.

Izzie started to shake her head, and then remembered there were tubes attached to it. "No, I was working on other cases. Were you one of the survivors from the plane crash? Because that I _would_ remember, even given everything else."

Now that she'd gotten here, Juliet still wasn't comfortable giving away all her secrets. Old habits. "My name is Dr. Juliet Carlson. I'm a friend of Jack's from sometime back."

Izzie frowned a little at this. "What's your specialty?"

"I'm an OB-GYN. Addison recommended the place."

"She did… tell you what's been going on here the last couple of years?'

Juliet actually smiled at this. "Between Jack and her, I've gotten a pretty good idea of the problems Seattle Grace has been going through the last few months?"

"And you still want to work here?" Izzie looked at Jack. "I've never heard of rats trying to _board_ a sinking ship."

Jack found himself chuckling despite himself. "You're being a little extreme."

"Jack, less than six months ago, you basically accused me and my friends of boring holes in the deck." She raised an eyebrow. "Don't tell me you're getting soft just because I have meds pumping through my veins."

Jack tried not to grimace at this. "Well, I can't blame you for being a little behind on gossip. Addison's probably going to be on maternity leave fairly soon."

Izzie looked puzzled, then angry. "I swear, if Alex decided to jump her bones after everything we've been through, I will pour my chemo down his throat myself …"

Now Juliet chuckled. "I've spent the last three months basically getting Addison in condition to have a child. She was very clear that she wasn't going to break any more relationships."

Finally, Izzie seemed able to put two and two together. "OB-GYN. You're a fertility specialist. Crap," Now she did shake her head. "I'm sorry. "

"It's okay. I understand better than you think."

"Of course you do." Izzie didn't seem able to meet her eyes.

"My sister Rachel was diagnosed with breast cancer six years ago."

Now Izzie looked her dead in the eye. "Is she…"

"She'll be coming up here to live with me in a few weeks. She's been in remission for four years." Juliet walked closer to Izzie. "It's one of the reasons I wanted to see you."

Izzie turned serious. "Look, I'm trying really hard to be optimistic and cheerful in the face of this. But I'm a doctor. You're a doctor. And we know that for every miraculous recovery, there are just as many people who die in their own filth. We know that remission is just another term for 'until the cancer comes back'. I'm trying to think for the future, but I know that I really may be measuring my life out in weeks and months rather than decades."

"I felt the same way when Rachel was sick. I can't help but think how awful it is for your friends." She looked around. "Where is Alex?"

"Trying to catch up on all of the rounds he's been missing the last few weeks. " Izzie looked sad. "He's spent so much of the last month by my side. I had to beg him. Basically told him that at least one of us needs to try and keep up with their education. "

"The guy must really love you," Jack admitted. "It's taken a considerable effort on my part just to get him to remember to sleep and eat."

Juliet nodded. "I know how hard it is to think of the future beyond your next cycle of chemo. But at some point, you have to at least try to find hope. That's actually another reason I'm here. I know better than most what some of the protocols are for women in your situation are. So, if you really are interested in having a child, I think I can help in that regard."

Izzie looked genuinely dumbstruck for a moment. "I knew that Dr. Weber told Alex to save some of his sperm for exactly this kind of scenario. But given the severity of the cancer, combined with the treatment, I figured I'd be lucky if I had any viable eggs left when this is done."

Juliet looked at Jack, who gave the most imperceptible of nods. "When my sister was diagnosed, it was pretty severe. And after a year of treatment, the doctors all told Rachel that she was never going to be able to have a child. "She knelt beside her. "At the time I had mainly been working in research, and I'd had some success that was potentially groundbreaking, but it was still years away from testing on humans. I threw caution and potentially my career to the winds, and decided to use it on Rachel. " She took a deep breath. "My nephew will be starting kindergarten this year."

Izzie looked genuinely amazed, then a little troubled. "How much have Jack and Addison told you about what I did?"

Both had hinted that Stevens and the rest of the interns had done something that could potentially have closed Seattle Grace's doors, but had not gone into detail. "They know that you did something that caused a lot of trouble."

"And the Titanic was just a minor accident." Izzie held up her hand. "I won't tell you exactly what I did, even though it's yet another of this hospitals worst kept secrets. The bottom line is I violated every rule imaginable to help someone I loved. Only for me, there was no happy ending."

"Here's something you don't know. What I did didn't exactly lead to happiness either. I was separated from my sister and the rest of my friends. I didn't see my nephew get born. And I went through more emotional hell for three years than I care to count."

Izzie was confused again. "How – why?"

Time to go for the plunge. "Ethan was a friend of mine."

It took several seconds for the penny to drop. "Y-you were on the island?"

She gave a small smile. "Technically, I was an Other."

Izzie looked genuinely elated for the first time since Juliet had shown up. "But I thought they were all evil."

"Some of them were." The smile disappeared. "That didn't stop me from being friends with some of them. Or from wanting to get the hell of that island."

"But you must know some of the secrets that that place was holding," It might have been an illusion, but it looked like Izzie had some of her color back for the first time in awhile. "What was that thing in the jungle? Was there really a radio tower on that island? How did you forgive them for killing Ethan?"

"Easy, easy." Jack was actually broadly grinning himself. "You do want to wait for Alex to get back, remember?"

Izzie now looked at Juliet. "I guess I see why you've been trying to stay under the radar." She sounded a bit calmer now. "Have you told anyone else at the hospital about this?"

"You're the first person at Seattle Grace who knows that part," Juliet assured her. "And for the moment, at least, I'm going to try and keep the circle relatively small. We're still trying to dodge publicity for this particular part of the rescue."

Izzie nodded. "I get it. I do. Jack was very effective at keeping it quiet, which in a place where it seems like everybody knows everybody else's business." She looked at Jack again. "Have you told anybody else the details, besides me and Alex?"

"I've dropped bits and pieces here and there, but it's like I said. You two are going to get the whole story." Jack shrugged. "It's not that I don't trust most of the people here, it's just…"

"You don't have to tell me about not wanting your dirty laundry aired in public," Izzie assured him. "As someone who's been on both sides of it, I completely understand discretion, or lack of it."

"Thank you for that," Juliet told her.

"But you know, considering that you're now the fourth person from the crash whose either moved here or is associated with this hospital," Izzie reminded them, "someone's going to put the pieces together if they try hard enough. Alex and I will be discreet, but a lot of people work at this hospital who aren't."

This could've been a subtle dig at a lot of other people, but both Jack and Juliet knew that it was just a matter of numbers. Seattle Grace employed over two thousand people, a lot of whom wouldn't be bound by doctor-patient confidentiality. They were trying to make plans to deal with it, but there was a good chance they might be blown out of the water inadvertently.

"Let us worry about that," Jack told her, with the confidence that had gotten him through so many crises on the island and off. "In the meantime, I'll be back in awhile to continue the island adventures."

"Will you be able to fill in some more of the gaps?" Izzie was looking at Juliet.

Juliet smiled. "There were a lot of things on the island that were kept secret even from us," she told her sincerely. "But I'll tell you what I do know. I imagine Jack will be even more curious to hear my stories then you are."

"That's a safe bet," Jack acknowledged.

"What is the prognosis?" Juliet asked as soon as they were out of the ward.

"Well, she's been responding a lot better to treatment than anybody thought," Jack told her. "And generally her mood's a lot better than half the patients in the ward. But it's going to be a long hard road, even if she does make a recovery."

"She's probably putting up more of a brave face for you and Karev," she responded. "She never told me whether she was interested in having children later."

"In her defense, you did drop a lot of bombs on her at once," he countered. "And it still takes two to swing dance. My guess is she'll want to hear Alex's opinion first."

"So who have you told, besides her?"

"Always direct," Jack said. "I've given Miranda a fair amount of the details about the early days without going into the strange stuff. And I told Derek a bit about how I happened to meet Desmond before the surgery. I imagine Hurley's told some of the story to Miranda and Callie as well. How much did you end up telling Addison?"

"I told her how I was recruited by Richard, and how my research was ineffectively used." Juliet told her. "I told her that I worked with you on a couple of cases, and how I met James. Beyond that, I've kept things as vague as I possibly can.

"Until twenty minutes ago." Jack reminded her. "Why did you _really_ tell Stevens that you were on the island? It can't just be because there's a real chance that she'll be dead soon."

Juliet stopped walking. "Why does Stevens think she deserves to die?"

Once again, Jack was reminded at how good an observer Juliet had always been, even when she didn't have a file in front of her. "Stevens got romantically involved with a patient who had a failing heart about a year and a half back," he told her bluntly. "From what I understand, it kept getting more and more intense the closer he got to dying. Finally, when a donor heart looked like it was about to go to someone else, she got the wire on his L-VAT. He got the donor heart, but had some kind of reaction to the anti-rejection meds. He was dead a week later."

Juliet knew about discretion and the rules regarding hospital policy. She knew that this wasn't something that would be made public. Still, it pissed her off that no one had mentioned it to her. "How the hell did Stevens keep her job?"

"Honestly, I don't know," Jack shook his head. "Considering all of the gossip that goes on here, I'm amazed it's managed to stay in the hospital. The guy was one of Miranda's favorite patients, but the Dr. Bailey I know would have cut this off at the knees. We know better than most how to keep a secret, but this… We've basically lost two cardiac surgeons as a result."

"Well, I can see why you've been giving her so much hell the last few months," Juliet replied. "Frankly, I'm amazed you decided to forgive her. The Jack Shephard I know was always a bit, shall we say, self-righteous."

"I guess I've matured since I got back," Jack admitted. "I may have been something of a prick, but even I didn't want her to die because of some misplaced sense of guilt." He paused. "And you still haven't answered my question."

"I know what it's like to have someone you care about with a fatal illness. She may have done a bad thing, but she still deserves to have a reason to live. And this does seem to be working so far." Juliet looked at Jack. "Do you really think she'll live long enough to learn the whole story?"

"Considering _I_ still don't know the whole story, and I lived through it, I'd say that there's at least a chance of it. We both know that medicine is only going to take her so far. She needs hope, and I'm going to try and make sure she has as much as possible."

"When did you become such an optimist?" Juliet asked.

"You should know, Juliet," Jack replied. "You were there."

The group was planning together (sans James) to meet up tomorrow afternoon, but considering that they were all there, Jack and Juliet had dinner that night with Hurley and Claire. Things were going pretty well between Hurley and Callie (and she had been delighted to meet Juliet earlier that day), but she understood that, for all the ways Hurley had embraced her, there were still parts of his life that were always going to be a little more personal.

Jack was one of Callie's biggest booster (and was glad that Hugo was finally managing to find personal as well as professional contentment), but he was actually glad that Callie wasn't here for this.

"I was going to hold off on this until tomorrow," he began slowly. "Mainly because it dealt with something we had all discussed as a group. But I did some looking into what we discussed two weeks ago, and I may have some answers about Locke."

Claire spoke up first. "Was what James heard true?"

"In August of 2000, John Locke was admitted to Marina Del Rey Hospital with injuries from an eight-story fall," Jack told them. "Despite the best surgical work at the time, he was a paraplegic, and required the use of a wheelchair."

They all took this in. They knew that James had no reason to lie about this, and they knew what the evidence of their eyes had told them. But it was one thing to know this intellectually; it was another to accept the truth. John Locke had been paralyzed when he'd gotten on their plane, and he'd help Jack move wreckage from the crash, and been a big help in hunting for food. No wonder he had been so certain that the island had been a miraculous place.

"Holy crap," Hurley said first.

Juliet, who had been on the island the longest of them, felt a level of surprise herself. Even after hearing everything that Ben and the rest had told her, she'd nevertheless been inclined not to think the island was that special. Nine deaths in three years didn't exactly sound like a great track record. And it still didn't explain what had happened to Ben.

"So, why are you telling us now?" Hurley was saying. "You're not, like, thinking of hiding this from everybody else, are you?"

"Of course not," Jack said immediately. "I promised I'd find out about Locke, and I'm going to keep my word. We all learned what happens when you don't share information. The reason I'm bringing it up _here,_ is because we have to discuss what we're going to tell the people in Seattle Grace about this."

"We've already started telling them about the island," Claire pointed out. "Why shouldn't we tell them about it?

"Because they're doctors," Juliet said. "And learning about a place like the island would probably shake them up considerably."

"Dude, you don't think they'd try to _find_ the place?" Hurley sounded more alarmed about the idea then they'd thought.

Jack looked alarmed at the idea. "We still have no idea where it was. What are they going to do, book flights to the South Pacific and hope for a crash?" He shook his head. "But you know how this hospital leaks. No matter how careful we are, if things go wrong, and the wrong people get a hold of it."

"You mean Widmore?" Claire was still concerned about this.

"For starters. It could make everything that Sayid and James are trying to do go up in flames. Which could end up hurting Desmond and Penny, and Miles, and God knows who else. And that's just assuming they don't try to go after anyone here."

"So what are you saying?" Hurley asked.

"When you tell them about the island, leave the miraculous stuff out of it." He looked at Hurley. "How much have you told Callie about it?"

"Most of the human stuff. Little of the Jurassic Park stuff," Hurley admitted. "It's not that I don't think she'd believe me. It's mostly that I don't understand most of it myself, even now."

"Ignorance can be the best policy some time," Claire assured him. "You sure it's still a good idea to keep telling Karev and Stevens?"

"I made a promise." Jack said without thinking. "And they've been pretty solid about keeping quiet. It's been more than a month, and they have told any of this even to the other interns. Which for this hospital…"

"Is something of a miracle." Hurley looked at Juliet. "Dr. Montgomery, she's pretty cool about this, right?"

Juliet thought about this for a long moment. "She managed to hide the fact that she was trying to have a baby from this hospital for nearly five months," she finally admitted. "Compared to that, telling her the details about what I was doing for Mittelos would probably be a walk in the park." She now looked at Jack. "Can you say the same thing about her ex-husband?"

This time Jack didn't hesitate. "Right now, he thinks he owes me his job and his fiancée, "he told her. "This is one chit I'm going to hold as long as possible. So we should be okay, right?"

It was hard to be sure. The hospital could be a sieve at times. But they'd held the truth from getting out for two and a half years. They could probably keep it up a bit longer.

"There's something else that I need to tell you," Hurley told them. "I did some looking into Locke's background. According to Desmond, he was the collections manager for a box factory in Tustin. " He paused. "One of the things my manager got before I got on the plane was a box factory in Tustin."

Jack knew that there had been some connections between before they had ended up on Oceanics – Desmond's was far more amazing than this – but still it shook him. "You're sure Locke worked there?"

"The guy in charge is a man named Randy Nations. Guy's a giant douche. He seemed to take a lot of pleasure in making fun of Locke." Hurley shook his head. "This is getting to be a small world, after all."

Jack shook his head, thinking back. "You know, I was thinking back the last couple of days about something Charlie said about Locke. They had a complicated relationship, too," he told Claire. "This was a couple of days after Ethan took you. Charlie was in a pretty dark place, for obvious reasons, and I was just starting to have questions about Locke."

"What did he tell you?" Even after all this time, Claire still got quiet when Charlie was mentioned.

"He said that he thought Locke was deranged. Before he got to know him. He told me that "if there was one person he was absolutely certain could save us all, it would be John Locke'. Even after everything he did, that still sticks with me."

"From what I remember, John pretty much got him off heroin." Hurley told him. "That's kind of why he took it so personally when Charlie found all those statues."

Jack remembered them to, and how'd he basically had to use one as the equivalent of a morphine drip on Libby. From what he'd learned from Claire, Charlie had basically thrown them in the ocean not long thereafter.

"One of the bigger ironies of this whole thing, if I'd known Locke in the real world, I might have been able to help him," he said, directing his words mainly to Juliet. "The level of his injuries, they're not quite the same as the one for the surgery that I performed on Sarah, but its pretty close. "

"Did he ever seek any kind of treatment for his condition?" Claire asked.

Jack shook his head. "He came in for a lot of physical therapy, but he never made any effort to do anything to treat his condition. That's what happens to a lot who have that kind of problem. "

"Jack, the man was broken psychologically years before he came to the island." Juliet reminded him. "You already blame yourself for a lot. Don't carry this, too."

Jack turned to Hurley. "Assuming that Anthony Cooper was his father, the only living relative I can find for him was his mother Emily."

Hurley seemed a little surprised at this. "The dude was like fifty when we met him."

"Forty-eight, actually. And according to this, Emily was sixteen when she gave birth to him. And according to his records, he was three months premature. "

Juliet was stunned at this. "More than half of all babies born that early die these days. I can't imagine what the record was like half a century ago."

"Two months in recovery before he was stable. And Emily immediately gave him up for adoption." Jack looked at her. "Right from the start, he must have felt unwanted. He was in and out of foster care until he turned eighteen. "

"Where's his mother live?" Hurley asked.

"Best I can find out, she's still in LA. Though I'm not sure what condition she'll be in." Jack went through another printout. "According to what I've been able to find, she's been in and out of institutions most of her adult life." He looked at Hurley. "Though the timing never matches up with when you were there, she was in Santa Rosa three times."

"Well, that's not so strange," Hurley said. "Place took a lot of people who had nowhere else to go. Do you have any idea where she is now?"

"No," Jack told them. "Only reason I was able to find this much is because there were hospital records. Still, maybe your PI could find her based on this."

"You won't get into any trouble because of this?" Hurley asked.

"As far as the world knows, John Locke is dead. I'm trying to get information of this to his next of kin. It's hardly a big sin." Jack looked at them. "Besides, considering everything I put the man through when we were on the island, I think I owe him this much at least."


	15. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

"You sure about this?" James asked.

"This is the address I have," Sayid told him.

"Looks like an ordinary church to me," James shrugged. "Granted, I ain't an expert in the field, but still… "He considered it again. "And what connection does this Hawking woman have to Widmore?"

"I'm a little in the dark on that myself," Sayid admitted.

That was a major understatement. Based on the little information that Miles had given him, Sayid had done some work on St. Thomas. The paperwork for the church had been hard enough to find. It clearly went back to the early 1940s, but somehow there were connections to the U.S. Army and Ann Arbor, Michigan, neither of which would have any interest in having a church being built.

Sayid remembered enough of the bizarre films he had watched on the island to know that the Dharma Initiative was connected to Ann Arbor. But if it had been difficult finding information about how Charles Widmore had made his fortune, ferreting out any information about the Dharma Initiative had been practically impossible. Gerald De Groot's education records seemed to have been expunged from the University history, and there had been no record of him or anyone else in the Hanso family since the early 1980s. If the Purge really had happened, there was a good reason for that, but Sayid had always taken everything Mikhail Bakunin and Benjamin Linus had told them about that group with an entire shaker of salt.

Sayid and Hurley had spent three weeks and quite a bit of Hugo's money trying to chase anything down that might connect Dharma or Eloise Hawking to Widmore. They had kept coming up empty. All they knew for sure was that she had maintained a residence at this church since 1980. Other than that, nothing else. No driver's license, no social security number, no birth certificate. Some might have thought that meant she was foreign national or in some kind of witness protection.

Sayid thought she was one of them. And while he didn't think she'd been bold enough to gun him down if he confronted her, he knew better than to go in alone. James had agreed to take a couple of days off to try and find out the truth.

"Well, what are we waiting for?" James opened the car door.

But as the two of them walked towards the entrance, he hesitated. "Are you all right, James?" Sayid asked.

"Sorry, it's just…" he trailed off. "I haven't been in a place like since I was eight years old."

Sayid didn't have to think very hard to figure out why he'd been in one then. "You sure you can do this?"

" _You_ sure you can do this?" James asked. "I realize this ain't exactly your religion, but I know that it's pretty much a no-no to even consider shedding blood on holy ground."

"We're not going to do that. Not unless she makes us."

"She's an Other. They _liked_ making us do that." James shook his head. "Now I had as many problems with them as you did, and I ain't pretending I was a Boy Scout _before_ I ended up that rock, but beating up on a senior citizen?" He looked at Sayid. "I really hope she goes quietly."

 _Have they ever done that?_ Sayid only nodded, and they walked into that.

They'd purposely gone in at night when, hopefully, there would be no one else present. And the place was deserted. Except for what looked to be an old woman in a monk's habit, lighting candles in the rectory.

"I suppose I should to hear you confession," she said in a voice that had the faintest clip of a British accent. "But you didn't come here seeking forgiveness, and we know that even a partial list of your sins would take far too much time to go through."

Sayid felt his flesh crawl in a way that he'd hoped he'd never feel again. Every time they had encountered one of them – Ben Linus, Tom, Mikhail – they had always seemed to know far more about the castaways than they had been telling their friends. Juliet had later told him it had been because of all the extensive files that they had gathered from the satellites rather than something otherworldly. But it had always seemed supernatural.

"Hello, Miss Hawking," he said slowly.

"Ah, Mr. Jarrah. I was wondering when you and your friends would come knocking on my door." She turned around, and removed her hood. It was Eloise Hawking, all right. And she didn't seem the least bit surprised to see them.

"And Mr. Ford. You know, I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that you chose to come with his help." Hawking seemed almost amused. "You always were closely linked."

"All right, let's cut the crap," Sawyer was back in the room. "I got sick of all the doubletalk you and your friends did, and I'm not going take it now."

"I don't know who you think my friends were," Hawking said calmly. "I haven't been on the island for nearly thirty years. There were many remarkable – shall we call them, advantages – to living on the island, but immortality was not one of them." She thought for a moment. "At least not for most of us."

Sayid seized on the one thing about her speech that he c0uld hold on too. "So you admit you came from the island?"

"Came from it? I lived there for more than thirty years. You might even say I was their leader." Eloise still seemed only mildly amused by the fact that she was dropping all these bombs. "Of course, that didn't necessarily mean I made all the decisions there. But you could say I still have a certain… authority."

Sawyer was not prepared to let this go. "Then how come nobody on that rock ever mentioned you?"

"Being a leader didn't necessarily mean you were in charge. Everybody answers to someone to end. That's why you're here, isn't it? You have a path to follow, and it's led you here."

"Now I know you're an Other. You keep speaking in riddles." Sawyer said. 'We didn't come here because of destiny. We sought you out."

"Did you?" Hawking was enigmatic as the Sphinx. Sawyer wanted to wipe that look right off her face. "And why do you think you came here?"

"Because of what Charles Widmore did to us." Sayid said calmly.

For the briefest of moments, Hawkings visage flickered briefly. It looked like a grimace of pain. "Charles has always thought that he had a bigger role to play than he did. He lived on that island longer than I did, and he never understood what his role was supposed to be."

"So you admit he was one of you," Sayid replied.

"He lived on the island. He was never one of us." Now Hawking was clearly upset. "He lived on a wondrous place all his life and he just wanted to control it. That's like trying to own the stars. I lived with him for more than twenty years, and I don't think he ever understood anything."

James was still trying to wrap his head around this. "You're saying that you and him…"

"It was complicated," Hawking actually seemed the slightest bit embarrassed by all this. "The man was incapable of the greater emotions. He clearly never understood the concept of love."

A possibility that Sayid had never considered entered his head. "Are you Penelope's mother?"

Another grimace. "You're almost there, Mr. Jarrah, but not quite I did have a child with Charles, and that is why I had to leave the island. As you are no doubt aware, it hasn't been conducive to mothers in a very, very long time. Bur Penny is not her."

"You're saying that Penny has a sibling she doesn't even know about?" Sawyer demanded.

"There are forces, Mr. Ford, at work that I desperately wanted my son to avoid." Hawking didn't quite seem to be talking to them any more. "He had a gift that needed to be fostered, and I did my best to push him in that direction. But in the end, he abandoned it. And me."

Suddenly Sayid saw something he might be able to negotiate with. "When was the last time you spoke with your son?"

"My son isn't a part of this, and if you try to get him involves, there will be consequences you can not comprehend." Hawking was back to herself, or at least the front she was trying to put up.

"Then help us bring Charles Widmore to justice." Sayid demanded.

"Are you serious? I knew him for decades. I know what Charles is capable of. So do you." Hawking replied. "Besides, you're worldly enough to know that justice never touches men from privilege. When he sets out to get something, he will find a way to get it down. With enough money, you can find anyone."

"He wants the damn island so much, let him have it." Sawyer countered.

"You know better than that, Mr. Ford," Hawking actually seemed alarmed now. "In the wrong hands that island is dangerous."

"What is this fucking island?!" Sawyer finally exploded. "You Others keep saying that it's a precious place, paradise on earth. It was hell. When I wake up every morning, I thank my lucky stars I got off that rock, and so do all my friends. What was so precious about that goddamn place?"

Sayid wouldn't have put in nearly as profane terms, but the same questions occurred to him every day. He didn't expect Hawking to give a direct answer this time, and she didn't. "You really only came to ask me about my connection to Charles," she finally said.

"And you've already told us all we need to know," Sayid told her firmly. "We won't be troubling you any further. Keep your secrets. For all the good they'll do you."

Sayid started walking towards the exit. Sawyer paused, regained the mantle of James Ford, and followed him. "This is about Desmond, isn't it?"

Compared to her previous tone, Hawking had actually sounded concerned about this.

"He and Penelope have been in hiding ever since we were rescued." Sayid told her. "We don't even know where they are. That's the kind of love Charles Widmore has shown his daughter."

Hawking hesitated. "I was always sorry about Desmond. I thought what I did was the right thing. That it was his path. That he had a purpose. But maybe he's done serving it."

"What the hell are you talking about?" James demanded again.

Again, Hawking didn't answer. At least not directly. "Sarah Milton. Wessex. At least, that's where she used to reside."

Both Sayid and James were puzzled. "Who the hell is she?" James asked

"I can't help you with Charles. Much as I loathe the man, he is still the father of my child. He may no longer consider me his mother, but I learned long ago that as a mother, one has to make sacrifices." Hawking seemed more human than she had in their entire conversation. "But Sarah probably knows far more of his secrets."

"And how do we find this woman?" Sayid asked.

"You found me, Mr. Jarrah. By comparison, she should be a cakewalk. Our business is concluded."

Sayid was inclined to agree.

"Do you love your wife?"

He nodded.

"Keep her safe. Especially when crossing the street." With those last enigmatic words, Eloise Hawking put her habit back on, and disappeared behind the nave.

"What the hell was that all about?" James asked.

"That there is a very good chance we are being watched," Sayid said. "Which isn't exactly a shock. I think the next time Miles makes contact, we'd better pull him out."

"Not the worst idea." James started walking out of the church. "Who do you think she meant? His people or theirs?"

"I'm hoping that it's just one or the other," Sayid followed him. "We can't rule out the possibility that they might both be."

"You think that bug-eyed bastard has people off the island?"

"I hope not. But as Hawking made abundantly clear, she's not the only one who left the island." Sayid told her. "Get in touch with Juliet. Then I suggest you get back to Seattle, and make sure our friends up there are safe."

"I take it you'll be doing the same thing for our friends here," James replied.

Sayid nodded. "We're going to need more people than us though. Is Hurley still in touch with those people in private security?"

"He still knows a couple of people. Think it's going to come that?"

"I hope not, James." Sayid said grimly. "But as much as we try to deny it, we are celebrities. And bad things happen to famous people all the time."

James nodded. By now, they were back at the car. "This woman, Sarah Milton, is she who I think she is?"

"If by that you mean Penny's mother, then yes." Sayid was concerned. "You still know how to handle a gun?"

James grimaced. Sayid remembered what Juliet had told the two of them – about how he'd shot a man before getting on Oceanic 815. That didn't change the fact that he knew how to handle a weapon better than almost everyone else that had come back.

"Haven't carried since we got back to civilization. But this is America. Shouldn't be that hard." James replied. "I kinda hoped we were past this point in our lives."

"So did I, James." Sayid could commiserate with James's feelings.

"You did take some kind of countermeasures when we came here, right?" James asked awkwardly.

Sayid looked around. "I have. But you know as well as I do, there's a very strong possibility Widmore has this place under some kind of permanent surveillance."

"Why the hell was Hawkwoman in that church to begin with? Don't tell me she actually came back to civilization to become a woman of the cloth."

Sayid considered it.. "There's obviously something very important beneath that church. But frankly, I think we're all better off letting this secret stay secret, and concentrate on protecting our friends."

In a white van nearly a mile away, a group of people in their twenties were looking at the church through a closed-circuit feed. "Why are we still watching them, Ilana?" one of the men complained. "They're not candidates any more."

"That doesn't mean they still don't need to be protected, Caesar" a woman with dark hair and olive skin said. "He was very clear about that."

"How do we know they weren't there to see the Lamp Post?" another man said.

Ilana wasn't listening. She was looking instead at a car in the corner of the screen. "Pull in closer on the driver of that car."

Reluctantly, Caesar did – and his eyes widened. "That's Widmore's second-in-command."

"How long do you think he's been following them?"

"It doesn't matter. If he is, that means they're in danger." Ilana got to her feet. "And you know what our orders were in case of his involvement. Get in touch with Mittelos."

Jack was beginning to settle back into something resembling normality at the hospital. Now, in addition to his weekly get-togethers with everybody in LA, everyone who had settled in Seattle would meet up for a group meal every day. It was only now that Jack was beginning to realize how few friends he had, at St. Sebastian's or anywhere else, before he ended up on Oceanic 815. At least for that reason, he could agree that the island had been a miraculous place.

James had been down in LA ahead of that week's meeting, and had told everybody that they had another issue they had to deal with. It was beginning to sound like they might have another problem facing them, but for once, he was going to leave this in Sayid's hands for now. He'd never been particularly skilled when it came to these kind of strategies.

Then, about two days before their weekly meeting, he got another sign that maybe the island wasn't quite finished with them.

About halfway through his shift, he got a page from Miranda saying that there was a woman who said she wanted to talk with him about the crash. He got to lobby, and saw Miranda with a woman in her early fifties with dark hair, looking concerned.

"This is Helen Norwood. She was responded to some inquiries you were making," Miranda told him, with a curious look in her eye.

It took Jack a moment to figure out what this was about. "Did you know John Locke?" he asked.

Helen looked at him. "John and I were in love. We lived together for two years."

In all the time Jack had known him, Locke had never mentioned being in love with anyone. Then again, he hadn't mentioned he'd been paralyzed either. "I'm glad you came up here, Miss Norwood."

"For the last two years, everyone's been telling me that John died when the plane crashed." Helen told him plaintively. "I was angry and depressed for a long time, but I managed to make my peace with it, even after the other survivors came back with no news. Now, I have a group of PI's coming to my house, asking me if I knew John. I think I have a right to know what's going on here."

"Of course you do, Miss Norwood, and I'm more than willing to tell you." He looked around. "There's a diner about two blocks from here. Can you meet me there in about an hour?"

Helen was willing to listen. "I have a lot of questions for you, Dr. Shephard."

"I can't promise I can answer all of them, but we'll do the best we can," Jack spoke with a confidence he didn't entirely feel.

As soon as Helen was out the door, Jack turned to Miranda. "I'm going to need someone to cover the rest of my shift. Can you clear that with Richard?"

Miranda, who now knew more about the island then just about anyone at the hospital other than Izzie and Alex, didn't put up a fight. "Should I page Dr. Carlson?"

"No, I better talk to her myself. I've got a couple of other calls I gotta make first." Jack told her. "Do the best you can to keep the gossip about this to a minimum. I know it's a losing battle, but still…"

"You _will_ tell me what this about later, right?"

Jack really didn't want to lie about this to Miranda. At the same time, he really didn't think it was his business to tell her another castaway's story. "It's like she said. Locke was another passenger on the plane." Then because she deserved to know something: "He survived the crash."

"Did he die in the aftermath?"

"He might've." Then Jack relented a little. "All I know for sure is he didn't come back with us"

There were dozens of questions in Miranda's eyes, but she gave voice to none of them. "You better tell more of the truth to her than you're telling to me."

An hour later, Jack had managed to get Claire and Hurley over to the diner. Unfortunately, none of them were entirely sure what they were going to say to this complete stranger – the only person any of them had ever met who gave a damn about John Locke – about the man they had known on the island.

Fortunately, Helen Norwood was more than willing to get them off to a good start. "What haven't you been telling the rest of the world about what happened after the crash?"

The three of them looked at each other for nearly a minute before Hurley started out. "A lot more of us survived the crash than we let on," he began slowly. "Fifty of us, in fact. One of them was Locke."

Helen looked at them for a moment. "Why didn't he come back with you?"

Jack figured now was the time to interrupt. "We spent a lot of time with John after the crash, but he seemed to go out of his way not to get to know us. He didn't mention much about his childhood, and he never mentioned that he ever loved somebody. What was John like?"

Helen seemed a little surprised by the question, but answered anyway. "John was a confused man who had a lot of trauma in his life. I think I may have been the only person who ever truly believed in him. " She paused. "I guess he never told you about his relationship with his father?"

Jack answered carefully. "He mentioned that it was very troubled. That his father lied to him in order to con him out of a kidney."

"That's how I met him, indirectly." Helen paused. "We were in anger management classes together, and he just blurted out the whole story one day. We bonded over our issues, and that's how our relationship started. But even then, there were signs of trouble."

"What kind of problems?" Claire asked.

"He would drive to the neighborhood that bastard Anthony Cooper lived in two or three times a week late at night." Helen shook her head. "Cooper even moved once, but John just kept following him. He said that he needed to know _why._ But I doubt that any answer would've made him happy. I thought that I persuaded him to let go of it. But John always had that problem."

Jack could relate. "Was his father the reason you broke up?"

"Yes," Helen replied. "One day I read Cooper's obituary in the paper. John and I went to his funeral, and I honest thought that was the end of it. But I guess Cooper couldn't stop being a con man. He faked his own death, and somehow he persuaded John to get some money out of the bank for him. I followed him to the motel when John was meeting with him, and it just destroyed me. I just couldn't forgive him, no matter how much he wanted me too."

"Uh, Miss Norwood, do you, like, think it's possible that maybe this guy Cooper never was John's actual father?" Hurley asked reluctantly. "That maybe he just lied in order to get the kidney from him in the first place?"

Helen was quiet for a long time. "I thought about that. Mainly because I could never believe anyone as sweet and kind as John could come from someone as soulless as Cooper. But I just couldn't bring myself to even suggest the idea to him." She looked at them plaintively. "John didn't have a lot of people who ever loved him. I think he really needed to convince himself that it wasn't all an act. That there had been a time that Cooper cared about him."

Jack hesitated for a moment, not sure whether Helen should know about what Cooper had tried to do to him just a few years later. He decided to let that go for now. "Miss Norwood, after the plane crash, we spent three months on this island in the South Pacific. It was a strange place, and there were a lot of things about it we didn't understand. But for some reason, John thought that it was a place of miracles. That it was a beautiful place." He hesitated. "And a lot of the things he did on that island, he kept trying to convince us that we were better off staying on it. None of us could figure out why, and I guess we thought he had no one waiting for him when he got back."

Helen shook her head. "When they said that your plane had been found with no survivors and John was listed as one of the passengers, I guess that I went into a kind of denial. I just didn't know why he would've gone to Sydney in the first place."

"He said he was going on a walkabout," Claire spoke up. "One of those adventures in the Outback where you spent two weeks in the wilderness, living off the land, hunting your own food, sleeping under the stars."

It was kind of gutsy for Claire to say that, particularly because even if that was true, there was no way that hadn't been some kind of massive humiliation for John. No insurance company in the world would've allowed a man in his condition to go on that kind of trek.

Helen shook her head. "Cooper taught him how to hunt. I guess that was part of it." She looked at him. "I've answered your questions. Now please answer mine. Is John dead?"

Jack decided to be honest. It would probably hurt Helen like hell, but she deserved to know the truth. "When we were about to be rescued, John told us that he was staying behind, and he practically begged the rest of us to do the same. He may still be alive, but my best guess is, none of us are ever going to see him again."

Helen took this in for a couple of minutes. Strangely enough, she managed to maintain her self-control. "I don't why this hurts me so much," she said slowly. "I'd cut my ties with him more than ten years ago. I guess I figured it would be for the best to never think of him again."

"But you loved him," Hurley told her. "I lost someone I loved on the island too. And even though I only knew her a couple of weeks, I really thought she was the one. It took me years to get over her."

"I don't think I ever will," Helen admitted. "He was the one. I probably should've tried harder, but the man broke my heart. And it was just something I couldn't forget."

Jack noticed that she hadn't said 'forgive'. Maybe she had, but she couldn't do the other, and now she never could. Locke was still hurting people without even having to be there.

"I'm sorry you came all the way out there for this, Helen," he said slowly. "I really wish we could've given you better news."

"In a sense you did," Helen said gently. "I've been holding on to this stuff about John for a very long time. Maybe I can find a way to move on. Besides, it's better to know with certainty than to wonder forever." She shook all of there hands. "Thank you for telling me. I know this couldn't have been easy for any of you."

Now she was forgiving _them_ for having to break the bad news to her. Helen Norwood was a far bigger person that Jack thought he could be in such a situation.

She stood up. "I should really go." Helen said slowly. "It sheems that I've taken up too mush of yer-"

She put her hand to her head. Jack had noticed that she was slurring her words. He had the briefest of moments to think that this sudden stress had caused some kind of stroke, when Helen suddenly pitched forward.

Jack caught her before she hit the floor. "Call the hospital," he demanded of Claire, who had always been more attentive in a crisis than Hugo, who still had trouble dealing with the sight of blood.

Helen was conscious, which was a good sign, but one of her eyeballs had a blown pupil. Jack wasn't a neurosurgeon, but he knew that was never a good sign.

He just hoped Helen hadn't made this long a trip in order to die here. He had enough blood on his conscience.

"Jack, I'm starting to wonder if your sole purpose in coming to Seattle Grace was to bring me extra work," Derek told him half in jest about three hours later.

"For once, this wasn't something I planned," Jack actually felt like he should apologize at this juncture.

At the very least, the ambulance hadn't had to come that far before they brought Helen into the ER. Jack had decided that it would probably be for the best if he stayed behind and let the nurses and interns do their work. The old Jack Shephard would've taken command of the entire procedure, but he knew enough to know that wouldn't help anything.

After a round of X-rays and MRI's, it was pretty clear that there was something wrong in Helen's head. By the time they were done, it was clear that she had a pretty significant aneurysm pressing again her frontal lobe.

"How serious is it?" Jack asked.

"She could have had it for months, and never known that it was there," Derek told her. "She knew one of the passengers on your plane."

"Yeah, but I didn't know about her until a few hours ago," Jack said. "How urgent is it?"

"Pretty serious. Why?"

"I'm just not sure what her insurance situation is," he told Derek.

"Jack, you know me better than that," Derek told him.

"You mind if I break the news to her?" Jack asked. "I already gave her some bad news today. She might as well hear the rest from me."

Claire had decided to stay with her as well. When Jack broke the news to Helen, she didn't exactly react the way that he'd expected.

"You mean that thing has been in my head for months, and it only chose to show itself now," Helen said slowly.

"That's right," Jack told her.

"Maybe this was destiny."

For a moment, Jack had the same gut reaction he'd had every time Locke had mentioned fate or destiny to him on the island – that it was utter nonsense. It took him a few seconds to react, and by then Claire, mercifully, had gotten between them.

"That sounds like something John would've said," she told Helen.

"Which is odd in itself," Helen replied. "John had a lot of trouble believing in things when I met him. I tried to get him to have faith, and I guess he took it to heart. But think of it this way. If you hadn't started asking about John, I would've had no reason to come up here. And if I hadn't, maybe the aneurysm in my head would've burst a month from now without anybody knowing about it. In that sense, there was some kind of fate here."

Jack really couldn't argue that point. It was a lot for him to accept, even after everything that had happened to him, but what Helen had said could not be refuted. "Maybe science and faith have come together," he told her. "In any case, I hope that it's worked so that you can get better."

"Well, let's hope so," Helen paused. "I'm still glad you told me what happened to him. I needed to know. It may not be the kind of closure that I hoped for when I came to Seattle, but at least you told me the truth. And everything else aside, I really do think that's the most important thing."

"You're right about one thing, Helen," Jack told her. "If nothing else, the last few months in particular have taught me how important it is to be honest. No matter how painful it can be."

"Then why aren't you telling the truth about what really happened?" Helen asked.

"For the same reasons we told you." And then, because he figured Helen was entitled to honesty: "Because I think it's something John probably believed in. He really believed in that place."

"We've told some people about what really happened," Claire added. "Mainly people over the last couple of years we've come to trust. Someday, we'll probably tell you the rest."

"You're not just telling this because I might not come back from this surgery?" Helen was a lot blunter about this than Izzie had been a couple of months ago.

"No. It's because you cared about John. You deserve to know why he decided to leave the rest of the world behind before." Claire looked at her brother. "Right, Jack?"

"You don't have to ask me for permission," he assured her. "I think we've kept the secrets of that place long enough."


	16. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

Given the mess he had turned his life into on the island and everything that had happened in the year that had followed, Michael had never thought he'd be able to get his life back together.

But in the year since Hurley and Sawyer had 'rescued' him, even though that had meant being tried and sentenced for his 'crimes', Michael had actually thought that redemption might be possible, if not downright plausible. Knowing that he was going to be able to build a future with Walt, however late, and that atonement was genuinely possible, had given him more motivation to move forward with his life than he'd had in years.

He'd gotten back into construction (ironically, after all the years he'd spent saying it was just a temporary job, part of him liked the simplicity of it), and had moved to a business operating out of Oakland. He'd used his original name – by this time, all of the fuss and furor surrounding the Oceanic crash had almost completely subsided, and no one seemed to care who Michael Dawson was any more. And he'd begun to rebuild a semblance of a life again. He even went to see a psychotherapist, and told him that he was suffering from a low-grade level of PTSD combined with depression. This was true, although he fudged most of the details as to why.

More than a little, he felt like he was serving a sentence for a crime he had committed, and that if he just stuck it out a little longer, he would be able to return to normal life. He still had nightmares about killing Ana Lucia and Libby, but they were becoming less frequent, and he even thought that he might be able to someday earn forgiveness for them.

He also had dreams involving more mysterious figures, telling him he wasn't quite done with the island yet, but they were becoming erratic, too. He still wished he could talk to somebody from the crash, but he had every intention of obeying the rules of his 'probation'.

And then, about three months before his sentence was officially up, he had come home to the boarding house where he had taken up residence for the last year, and was told that he had a visitor.

Alarm bells started to go off in his head. Though he'd formed some working relationship at the company, all of them were local. He had never had someone come from out of town to see him. Part of him wondered if somehow one of the Others had tracked him down – maybe even that conniving bastard Henry Gale or whatever the hell his real name was. It was enough to make him wish he was still carrying a gun.

Then he came into the main room, and saw it was Sayid. Michael relaxed, but only a little. He'd always gotten along well with Sayid - at least until he'd sold them all out - but even when they'd been friends, he'd never truly forgotten that the man had been a member of the Republican Guard.

"Hello, Michael," Sayid was sitting in a chair, wearing a black shirt and a black leather jacket. As always, Michael was reminded of a coiled spring, just waiting to strike and draw blood.

"Look Sayid, I don't know why you're here, but I've been obeying the rules you and the rest set," Michael said slowly.

"We're well aware of that," Sayid said slowly.

Michael was about to take offense, then remembered the terms of his sentence. Of course they'd had people watching him. Very discreetly, no doubt – they didn't want to destroy his life for obvious reasons – but it still chafed a little.

"Is it your impression that I've come here to punish you?" Sayid asked.

"No offense, man, but if I had screwed up, you're exactly the person who'd come to do it," Michael said honestly.

"A fair point," Sayid's face cleared. "There's clearly been a misunderstanding. Everybody who came back knows that you've been doing a fine job abiding by the terms we set. And under normal circumstances, we wouldn't have made contact until you'd finished abiding by them."

"But when has anything in our life been normal," Michael finished.

"Unfortunately, you're correct on that." Sayid admitted. "Circumstances have changed significantly in the last few months. And it seems as much as we've tried to put everything that happened on that island behind us, there are some people involved who are not inclined to be so generous."

Michael thought about telling Sayid about his dreams, and then decided this was not the time. "I think I'd better sit down for this," he said slowly.

"You'd better. It's a long story."

Sayid laid out everything that he and Sawyer had spent the last few months learning about Charles Widmore and Eloise Hawking. It took him nearly an hour to get through the messy details, and Michael tried to keep his questions to a minimum until the end.

"This shit's been going on for awhile," Michael said when he was finished.

"Far longer than any of us thought," Sayid told him.

"You've been keeping Walt and everyone else safe?"

Sayid nodded. "Hugo has been very good at finding security people to keep everyone in LA protected. James managed to find some people he trusts to watch everyone in Seattle. We've taken every precaution possible, yet my mind keeps going back to an old phrase I remembered from someone I questioned in my former capacity in Iraq."

Sayid had rarely opened up about his time in the Republican Guard. Michael knew he was ashamed of it. "What did he say?"

"It was a friendly conversation for a change. He was more than willing to give us intelligence, but he was afraid for his life. I told him we would make sure that he was under armed guard twenty-four hours a day. His reply was a quote from the Roman Scholar Juvenal. I don't remember the Latin, but I never forgot the translation. 'Who will guard the guards?'"

Michael knew that Sayid was one of the men least inclined to panic he'd ever met. "How much risk are our friends in?"

"I can not say with certainty, which is why we need to find a resolution as quickly as possible." Sayid hesitated. "That's where you come in."

Michael had figured something like this was coming, but it still came as something of a surprise. "Please don't tell me it's because you now consider me expendable."

"Despite the passage of nearly two years, my face, as well most of the people, who came back, are still too high profile to undergo a mission like this. We need someone who can still slip below the radar, and yet has the capacity to take care of himself should a crisis arise." Sayid told him. "He also has to be someone we trust. As you can imagine, that's a pretty limited circle."

Michael considered this seriously for a moment. "I'm not going back to the island."

Sayid actually looked alarmed when Michael brought up the idea. "Why in God's name would we want you to go there? Especially considering that the solution is nowhere near the South Pacific."

"I needed to be sure," Michael told him. "I do this, all debts are forgiven."

"You still don't get it, Michael. We're asking for your help, because you're straight with us."

It was something he'd wanted to hear for the past year, but he still wasn't sure he believed it. "Even with Hurley?"

"He's provided the funding for it."

It was for real. "What do you need from me?"

"Meet me by the back door in ten minutes."

"You sure this cloak and dagger stuff is necessary?" Michael asked Sayid an hour later.

They gotten into a beat up old Mustang, and Sayid had taken one of the most circuitous roads imaginable to what he said was going to be a marina in Southern California. He knew that Sayid was cautious by nature, and he knew how dangerous the level of so many of the players in this game were, but this still seemed like overkill.

"There is at least one man watching your construction site," Sayid told him. "We're not sure whether he was working for Widmore or Benjamin Linus, but there's an excellent possibility that there's at least one man for each side watching you."

Michael had thought he was past the capacity for being alarmed. "I thought I was being so careful," he told him.

"We're the ones who haven't been particularly cautious," Sayid said apologetically. "We've been watching you from a distance for awhile, and none of our people even knew that they were there. I don't want to think of the level of training these men might have."

Michael wanted to ask if the man Sayid had caught was dead. He figured that he had to be, considering the level of risk it would be to keep one of Widmore or Ben's people alive. Then he realized that he didn't want to know, and that Sayid, who had probably managed in a day to have more blood on his conscience than Michael had in his lifetime, probably didn't need to have the question asked.

"I made a promise when we got started that there would be no more blood," As always, Sayid seemed able to read his thoughts without even looking at him. "Even Juliet knew that it was probably going to be impossible to keep."

"Can you at least tell me where were going?" Michael asked, knowing that both he and Sayid wanted to get off the subject.

"The harbor. The people who you'll need to help you will be waiting for us."

Michael considered this. "You're not coming?"

"I have to handle things on land," Sayid told him. "Including making certain your son and our friends are safe."

Twenty minutes later, they arrived at their destination. The two of them got out of the car, Sayid leading the way.

"Do I know these people?" Michael asked.

"No, but we do and we trust all of them."

That meant a lot, considering their situation. Soon, they came to a dock, where a boat somewhere in the neighborhood of a schooner and a yacht was waiting for them. The boat was called _Our Mutual Friend._

Sayid sent a text, and about a minute later a brown-haired man about Michael's age emerged from below deck. "We've got to stop meeting like this, Sayid," he said with a Scottish brogue.

"Hopefully, this will be the last time," Sayid turned around. "Michael, this is Desmond Hume."

"Welcome aboard, brutha," he told him.

Michael had never met this man even though they'd been on the island pretty much all the time he had been there, but he recognized the name nevertheless. "You were the man in the hatch. You were the one who got them all rescued."

Desmond gave a broad smile. "Technically, my wife did that part. Considering that you're here, I'm guessing you'll soon be making her acquaintance as well."

"Looks that way," Michael turned to Sayid. "I know how important this is, but wouldn't it be a lot easier if we just flew into England?"

"There's an excellent chance that Widmore, at least, will be watching the commercial airports," Sayid told him. "We want to stay under the radar as much as possible, and Penny has the resources to make sure that you can do just that."

Michael frowned. "She doesn't have a problem bringing down her own father?"

"You could ask me yourself. "

A woman with chestnut hair and a clipped English accent was suddenly standing beside Desmond. Michael realized he was finally looking at the fabled Penelope Widmore.

"My father did everything in his power to keep me and Desmond apart for more than five years," Penny told Michael. "He's always made it clear where he considers me and my own happiness compared to what he wants. I don't want to think I'm a particularly vindictive person, but in this case, I believed it's high time he got what's coming to him."

It took quite a lot to get a woman to hate her own father, and that was probably without knowing what Michael did. He had a feeling Desmond and Penny knew far worse. "I have to ask," he told Penny. "There isn't some way you could talk to him. Maybe persuade him to let this all go?'

There was a real look of pain in Penny's eyes. "There's no talking my father out of anything. And if we have to bring down the fire and furies upon him to make him stop, then that is what we will do."

"And your mother can do this?" Sayid asked one last time.

"She should be," Penny told them. "She's the reason he lost the island in the first place."

Michael looked at Desmond. "Not that I doubt your passion for this, but what exactly do we have going for us besides that?"

"I still have access to a fair amount of my own resources," Penny told him. "They should enable us to get in and out of the country.

"I served three years in her majesty's army," Desmond added. "Most of it's stuck."

Michael considered this before looking at Sayid. "Are you sure I'm the right man for this particular job?"

"You're the man we have the most faith in," Sayid replied. "You want to make sure that everything we have to do with this island is finally behind us. This will get that done."

Michael considered this for a couple of moments, and then finally boarded the yacht. "Keep my son safe," he told Sayid.

Sayid nodded and looked at Desmond. "Make sure that your wife handles the navigation," he said with a hint of a smile.

Desmond had a rueful expression on his face. "You know as well as I do that wasn't me fault," he reminded him.

Michael figured this had to be some kind of inside joke. He decided not to ask the question, figuring there would be time to do so later on. "How long until we weigh anchor?"

"We'll be ready to shove off in about an hour," Penny told them. "My best to our friends."

"Hopefully, when we meet again, it'll be for good," Sayid replied. Then he paused. He handed Michael a phone. "Press 24 and you'll be able to make contact with Walt. We're certain this is a secure line, but try not to overuse it."

Michael took the phone as if it were made of gold. "Thank you," he said, barely able to choke back tears.

"Have a safe journey," Sayid told him.

Michael remembered back to the last time Sayid had seen him off on a similar dangerous trek. It had ended with Walt being captured and the raft he'd spent weeks building being destroyed in a second. His life had been destroyed in that very moment, and it had taken him years to rebuild it to even a shell of what it had been before he had gotten on the plane. Now he was getting on another boat on a journey that was, in its own way, even more uncertain than the one he had built the raft to try and handle.

For the first time in a long time – maybe since he had made the fatal decision to fire that flare – Michael prayed. He was pretty sure God hadn't been listening then, but he hoped that he was listening now.

 _Help me do the right thing this time,_ he said silently. _Don't let me fail my friends this time. I know I've strayed a lot the last couple of years. I just want to make sure that I'm doing the right thing this time._

At that moment, he felt a pat on his knee. He looked down to see a toddler with reddish brown hair looking up at him.

"Charlie, I told you to stay below," Penny said.

Michael looked at Desmond. "Did you –"He couldn't bring himself to ask the question.

Desmond nodded. "He's really the one who saved us all. "

Michael was not the kind of person who believed in signs, even after all of the chaos he had been through on the island. But he knew that he was on a ship with two people who had saved the lives of everyone on the island, and who had named their first-born for someone who hadn't been able to come back.

Maybe, despite the odds against them, they had a chance after all.

Jack had thought he'd been handling things rather well, considering the level of chaos that had filled his life the last few weeks.

The surgery on Helen Norwood's aneurysm had been a success. Compared to some of the ones that Derek had had to perform over the past year – a couple of which Jack himself had brought to his attention – it was a simpler procedure. Helen had been in the ICU for the last week, and all signs pointed to the possibility that there would be a complete recovery. There'd been some issues with insurance over the last few days, but in his inimitable fashion, Hurley had stepped in and had been willing to make up the difference.

Stevens was making steps in the right direction as well. The last couple of CAT scans had shown that the tumor seemed to be gone. She was responding well to treatment, though whether that was due to the chemo or Jack's stories of the island, was honestly hard to Say. The old Jack Shephard would have said it had to be science. The new and improved Jack Shephard was more than willing to let the possibility that there might be something else involved.

"So far, basically everything I've told you could fall under the realm of the explainable," he was telling her and Alex that day. "Hard to believe, yes, but still within the realm of science. But after what happened the night the raft left, we start to leave science behind."

"A giant monster that seems to be something out of _Jurassic Park,_ only invisible," Alex said. "You're kind of pushing the term there, Jack."

"I'd compartmentalized a lot of it," Jack told them. "Probably because everybody on the island was expecting me to me to be the leader, and by default, 'the rational one'. If anyone else, besides Locke, believed in the spiritual side of this island, they were pretty much keeping it to themselves. But then, we were all keeping pretty much everything to ourselves at that point."

"Another reason we probably wouldn't have lasted a week on the island," Izzie told them. "This hospital is a much larger group than the people who survived the plane crash, and we can't keep a secret for more than a few hours."

"Having been on the other side of it, I can't exactly argue that's the wrong approach," Jack admitted. "The point is, I was doing everything in my power to keep things logical. But after what happened next, it started becoming a lot harder."

He told them about how he, Kate and Locke had divided up the dynamite, and had started to walk back into the jungle. And then, the explosions and crashes started. "And we got our first look at what was out there. It was a black pillar of smoke."]

He let that sit for a moment. "We all started running. But Locke stopped in his tracks, and turned the face it. He said: 'I'll be fine'."

Another pause. "I'm beginning to see why you thought he was crazy," Alex said slowly.

He went over what had happened next, not sparing any details, as well as explaining that this was where he and Locke had had their conversation about science and faith. "After that, I went to Kate, who was still kind of pissed that I hadn't trusted her to carry the dynamite."

"I'm kind of on your girlfriend's side, Jack on that," Izzie replied. "Don't get me wrong, I understand why you did it, but… I've been keeping score, and this has to be like the fifth time since you found out she was a fugitive that you basically demonstrated you didn't trust her. Hard not to take that personally."

"I think the guy was just jealous that she was spending so much of her free time with Sawyer," Alex replied.

"I've actually had some time to think about that," Jack admitted. "Island Jack Shephard was a self-righteous prig. He didn't want to be the leader, but he couldn't handle the idea of anybody else taking the job. He purposely withheld information so that he could jump in and be the hero, and he only remembered the failures, never the successes. And keep in mind, Boone had died three days ago. I was still pretty raw over that. I never really trusted Locke afterwards."

"That explains why you were pissed at Locke. What about Kate?" Alex asked.

"Honestly? I don't know," Jack looked at them. "I wore my heart and my pain on my sleeve back then. Maybe I just wasn't ready to admit that I was falling in love with Kate, and I couldn't deal with the fact that she kept drifting between me and Sawyer. For the next week or so, things were a lot better between us, and I'm willing to bet any amount of money that it was because we all thought Sawyer was gone for good. I don't think I'd have been able to ask for her help otherwise."

"What do you mean?" Izzie said.

"Just before we got ready to blow the hatch, I told Kate that when this was over, we were going to have a Locke problem, and that I was going to need her help when it started." Jack said slowly. "I was about that, but it didn't start getting serious for another few days. Unfortunately, before I get there, I have to backtrack a little."

He then told them what Sayid had related to him a few weeks later about how Rousseau had abducted Aaron, and that he and Charlie had gone chasing her across the island. They had run across direct obstacles (Rousseau's traps) and more subtle (the Virgin Mary statues that had been in the Beechcraft. They had eventually caught up with Rousseau, and she had surrendered Aaron, saying 'the Others had said they were coming for the boy".

"Rousseau was delusional, if not downright crazy," Jack told them, "but in this case, she was exactly right. None of us would know, though, for awhile. The people on the raft, however, were about to find that out."

He then told them around that same time, though they had no idea of the correlation, the raft had started to pick something up on its radar. Apparently, there had been a brief and heated debate on the issue before Michael had fired the flare. Within minutes, a boat had appeared on the horizon, and a bunch of bedraggled men had been on it. One of them had then said the fateful words: "Thing is, we're gonna have to take the boy".

"According to Sawyer, things happened very fast afterwards. One of them pointed a gun, Sawyer started to go for the nine millimeter I'd given him. He said he managed to get off one shot before somebody threw a device on the raft. He had just enough time to realize it was some kind of bomb before they grabbed Walt, and the whole raft exploded. They sailed off, and the only reason Sawyer knew Michael was alive was because he kept screaming his son's name."

Jack looked at his watch. "I really hate to leave you guys hanging, but we're going to have to stop there."

Izzie heaved a mock sigh. "You know, Jack, I'm beginning to think you're doing this on purpose."

"Normally, I'd harangue your skepticism, but the fact is this is about where I was going to stop regardless," Jack told her. "Like I said, the story gets a lot more complicated from this point on, and not just because we finally managed to open the hatch. A lot of new people are about to enter the story, some of them a lot more important to our getting rescued Which is mildly ironic, because for the next month or so, a lot of us would start giving up on the idea of ever leaving the island."

"Don't tell me you were one of them," Alex demanded.

"No, but I have to admit, I wasn't exactly focused on saving us." Jack told them. "To be continued."

He got to his feet, and looked at Stevens. "Just so you know, I've talked with Derek and he thinks your latest MRIs mean that you can be discharged. You'll still have to come in for a chemo for the next month, but even by the most cautious of standards, you don't need to be in the hospital every day."

"He told us as much a couple of days ago," Stevens looked at Jack. "I'm just kind of scared about recovering. I've known from a rational standpoint that I've been doing better the last month – at least compared to most people in oncology – but I'm still…"

"…terrified?" Karev finished. "I am too, Iz. But there does come a point where we gotta get on with living. Or at least trying to."

"Maybe I should let you two talk," Jack headed towards the door.

"You've been as responsible as anyone in helping Iz recover, Jack," Alex said. "I think given all the shit that's happened you know that much."

In a way Jack did, but it meant a lot hearing it from Izzie and Alex. "I'm going to skip ahead again," he said slowly. "Near the end of my time on the island, a man who's going to become a vital part of the story very soon – a man who you could even call the villain of the piece – seemed to have me in a corner. He told me to give up any chance at rescue, or otherwise he'd kill some of my friends. When he tried to persuade me otherwise, he reminded me that my father was dead, and that my wife had left me. 'Why did I want to go back? Do I really want to come back to the hospital and keep fixing everything?'

"How'd it turn out?" Izzie demanded.

"I beat the bastard within an inch of his life," he told them. "Now, I'm not going to lie to you, at the time I thought that was the worst thing I would ever do. But in a bizarre way, the man – even though he was a pathological liar and a borderline sociopath – had a point. My life wasn't exactly in great shape when I got on that plane. And not long after I got us back to civilization, things didn't exactly seem like they'd gotten much better for me."

"And things got better when you changed jobs?" Alex asked.

"No. Things got better when I changed my life," Jack told them. "I'd just been through a major trauma, and my first reaction was to go back as if nothing had changed. But everything had changed, and I had to acknowledge that." He paused. "Do you get what I'm saying, or do I have to beat you over the head with the metaphor?"

Izzie smiled a little at that. "I do get the point."

"Maybe, but because of where we are, I think I better drive the point into the ground," Jack said. "Don't leave this ICU and focus immediately on going back to your residency." He looked at Alex. "That goes for you too, Karev. I realize the nature of this job basically says that we only focus on the next procedure, the next shift, becoming chief resident, becoming an attending. You can't let your work become your life. This may go against everything you've been taught, but there is more to life than just being a great doctor."

"You better not let Christina hear you say that," Alex said, only half in jest.

"Christina's emotionally stunted," Jack said bluntly. "That may make her a great doctor. Maybe even the best doctor. And maybe she can deal with a life full of clippings and no friends. God knows I thought I could. But I won't. But try and make more of your lives than this. And for the love of God, talk to each other. About things that matter."

"I think the subtext has become text, Dr. Shephard," Izzie said with a smile.

"Sorry, but this is Seattle Grace." Jack opened the door. "Here endeth the lesson."

Juliet wasn't always able to coordinate her shifts so that and Jack were usually working around the same time, but he hadn't been lying about how people always seemed to be running into each other in the elevators. "Doctor," she said as Jack walked in.

"Doctor," he said with a smile. "Rachel and Julian settling in yet?"

"Leave it to Hurley. He knows how to make the right people jump," Juliet told him. "Now it's simply a matter of getting James to settle down."

Jack's smile faded a little. He knew that a couple of weeks ago their problems with the island had started to crop up again. Sayid and James had said they'd been handling it, but he was beginning to wonder how much he should worry. "How worried should we be?"

"About Widmore, possibly quite a bit," she admitted. "I have no idea how long his reach, and its beginning to look like he's been monitoring us for awhile."

"Hell," Jack thought to himself. "I hate to bring up Other business, but I have to ask: Did you know if Ben had any links to the outside world from the island?"

Juliet gave one of her humorless grins as they got out of the elevator. "You know how forthcoming Ben was with information about the island," she reminded him. "Once you got there, you weren't allowed to leave. But I don't think rules were ever written for him."

"What about the man who recruited you, Richard?" Juliet had always spoken strangely about the man. Jack had never met him when he had been with the Others, and frankly, he hadn't thought that the man had been very important.

"He was the advisor to the leader, and if Ben can be believed, he'd held that job for a very long time," Juliet told him. "He had a level of freedom that none of us did." She paused. "The day of your plane crash, he was the one who was in Miami, taping my nephew just for me to see. I always assumed he took the submarine to get there, but I was never sure. Richard Alpert danced to the beat of his own drum. Even Ben was occasionally deferential to him."

Jack considered that. "Were there any other people who Ben had on the outside?"

"Jack, this is Ben Linus you're talking about. I spent the first year off the island expecting a tap on my shoulder from someone working for him. But to answer the question you're not asking, they might help. _If_ we agreed to return to the island."

"So it's out of our hands," Jack said resignedly.

"What's out of your hands?" Both of them jumped a little. They'd been so absorbed in their conversation they hadn't noticed Sloan approaching.

"It's a private matter," Juliet said quickly.

"This has something to do with what happened after the crash?" Mark asked cagily. "The stuff that you and all of your friends are doing your damnedest to keep from answering questions about?"

Jack and Juliet exchanged a glance. "Sort of, "Jack admittedly sheepishly.

"Hey, I don't blame you for not airing your dirty laundry. Everybody in this hospital knows everybody else's business, and it's damn irritating how everybody's willing to share on a moment's notice," Mark told them bluntly. "I just thought maybe it was a problem somebody here could help with, seeing as you two seem to be doing double duty when it comes to that."

Jack and Juliet exchanged another of their looks. "Honestly, there's nothing you can do. There's nothing _we_ can do about it, either," Jack admitted. "It might be solvable, but it's not in our hands."

Mark shook his head. "I hate that feeling. I guess that's why I like surgery so much. At least then, the problems are under your control."

Jack considered this for a minute. "You remember that story I told the interns about my first solo surgery?"

"Yeah" Mark told them. "You cut the Dural sac on the patient, you were terrified, you decided you'd let the fear in, but only for five seconds, and then you fixed the patient. It's part of the Jack Shephard mythos around here."

"That's because it is a myth." Juliet blinked at this. She'd heard this exact same story right before Kate and James had been out to row away from Hydra Island. Given the stress of the circumstances, she'd had no reason to expect that it was anything but gospel.

"I was finishing my first solo surgery, I did cut the dural sac, and I did panic," Jack told them. "But my father saw me panicking, and _he_ told me to count to five, and then fix her, or _he'd_ have to step in. So I counted to five, and then I did it." He stared in the distance. "After the surgery, my father told me there was no signs of paralysis, and congratulated me. And I responded by saying he embarrassed in front of the entire team by making me take a time-out. Then I said that I knew he had no faith in me, and it was important that they do. Then he told me: 'Are you sure _I'm_ the one that has no faith in you?'"

Mark considered this for a moment. "You're not going to like this, but I'm going to have to side with your dad on that one. Any attending observing a resident couldn't let that resident freeze during the surgery, or the patient might die."

"Yeah. I get that _now,"_ Jack admitted. "Hell, I was probably too young to be performing my first solo surgery anyway. I wasn't asking to be treated equally; I think I wanted better treatment. I spent my life making my father the heavy in every story we were in, and now that it's too late, I realize that I never gave him the benefit of the doubt."

"I understand the point of the story, but why are you telling _me_?" Mark asked.

"Because you're probably going to become a father soon," Jack told him. "And if anyone can benefit from the errors in judgment I made about my father, it's you. Try to learn from your mistake, because every parent makes them. And for God sakes, tell your kid you love them. That's one my father made repeatedly. "

Mark nodded. "It's appreciated."

"And try not to spread that particular story in the rumor mill."

"Believe me, that's not an issue." Mark assured him. "I've met your friend James. I mess with you or Juliet; he would kick my ass and not think twice about it."

Both Jack and Juliet chuckled at this.

When Mark was out of earshot, Juliet looked at him. "Was that part of the story true?"

"You know how much baggage I was carrying about my father," Jack told her. "Back then, I couldn't admit it even to myself. Last year or so, I've been trying to leave all that shit behind."

Juliet nodded. "You are going to have to tell him about the island eventually."

"I'll tell them all," Jack promised. "And if this mission works out, hopefully sooner rather than later."


	17. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

It had taken them nearly two weeks to sail from Oakland to Wessex. By then, Michael had done a better job than he would've expected bonding with the Hume family. It had come as a surprise to him because he never done a particularly good job making friends with anybody on the island, aside from the Kwons, and even that had been more on their part than his. It was almost certainly the reason he'd never been able to confine in anybody about the message he'd been receiving on the Swan computer, which had led to pretty much every bad thing that happened afterward.

Maybe it was being on a boat that had helped. He'd managed to start to bond with Jin during the construction, and he'd started to bond with Sawyer when they were sailing. Or maybe it was because he'd learned Desmond had wanted to get off that island even more than he had, and could understand, if not entirely forgive everything he'd done. Then again, maybe it was the simplest thing of all – they were both fathers who wanted the best for their children.

'You're serious," Michael was asking Desmond. "You found the doctor for Penny in the Philippines?"

"Aye, mate," Desmond told him. "Astonished I knew someone there."

"Actually, I'm just shocked you were staying so close to the South Pacific," Michael replied. "Considering all the hell you'd been through, I'd figured you'd at least have made landfall somewhere."

Desmond looked thoughtful. "Never gave much thought to it. I guess all we cared about was staying as far away from her father as possible."

"And now we're kind of going back into the lion's den," Michael told him. "If Widmore was keeping an eye on us, don't think it's at least likely he'd have one on of the mother of his child."

"She gave birth to me," Penny said slowly. "She was never really my mother. My father made sure of that/"

Michael looked at her apologetically. "I know how hard this must be for you," he said truthfully. "This whole trip must be like pouring acid on an open wound."

"And as I keep trying to tell you, it's not," Penny looked at him. "My father is a horrible man. I knew that from quite an early age. The way he treated my husband was appalling even before Des felt he needed to break my heart. It's bad enough to never trust your own father. Its worse when he keeps you isolated from your own mother."

Desmond looked at his wife very carefully. "You honestly never tried to find her before all this?" he asked gently.

"Oh, I tried. Believe me." Penny told him. "As you well know, with enough money and determination you can find anybody. But until your friends came to me, I didn't even know her real last name. Like the British at Singapore, I had all my guns pointed in the wrong direction."

Michael didn't understand the reference, but he got the point. "Who do you think she's hiding from?" he asked. "Your father or… the Others?"

"Considering that my father wants nothing to do with her, and if what you're telling me is true, the Others banished him because she wasn't one of them, I think the correct answer is… nobody." Penny shook her head. "My guess is my father, as is his wont, did everything in his power to drive her off. Who knows, in his misguided way, he may have even thought he was protecting her. He does that, you know."

This had been a difficult trip, and it was clear that Penny was still trying to process everything Sayid and Sawyer had told her.

"This child my father had with this woman in the church," Penny began slowly. "I've already begun doing some work in trying to find… damn, I don't even know if I have a brother or sister out there."

"That's not that uncommon in our group," Michael mentioned. "Jack and Claire didn't even know they were related until a year after they were rescued. So you know, there is hope."

Penny tried to gather herself. "We'll be reaching landfall in a couple of hours," she said. "After that, well, we have to figure out what to do when we find… her."

Hurley had known, after winning the lottery, sometimes freakish people will come and try and hurt you for no reason. It had only happened once before he had gone to Australia – someone had tried to rob his new house about three months before, only to trip on a garden hose, and break his leg. This being California, he had then tried to sue the Reyes family for forty million dollars, even though he'd had a newspaper clipping and a Sig Sauer in his pocket. Even then, he hadn't asked for protection.

But after James and Sayid had come to him and told them what they had found out, Hurley had decided that while he wasn't particularly worried about himself, he was concerned about his family and friends. And while Sayid had offered his services to make sure they stayed safe, Hurley had been unusually direct: "Dude, you've done enough. Let me _protect_ you for a change."

After James had told him that he was going to be in Seattle, watching over the ones of their group who were there, Hurley had asked one of the people in private security to recommend some people to watch the ones were still in LA. The second thing he did was contact Jin and Sun and ask them if they and Ji Yeon wanted to stay with them for a little while.

The Kwons had been staying pretty close to what was going on, and Hurley told them that he kind of figured everything connected with the island was coming to a head. Sun, who'd always been the blunter of them, had told them she had liked being watched while she was under the thumb of Paik Automotive, and was even less happy about it now.

"I'm not saying you have to, like, interrupt your life," Hurley assured them. "Heck, at this point, I wouldn't expect it of you guys. But I really think we are coming to the end of all this and I'd want to be sure that we don't have to lose anyone else."

Eventually, they'd come to a compromise. Sun and Jin would continue going to their jobs, but the bodyguards they hired would watch from a discreet distance. Sayid had been surprisingly more easy-going, and had agreed that he and Nadia would move in with the Reyes family for the immediate future. Hurley had a feeling it was because he thought he could keep them safe, but he had no problem bending a little on this.

It was then that Sayid realized that something pretty obvious had been staring them in the face.

"Kate's in prison," Hurley said gently. "I'd think being surrounded by armed guards would be the safest place for her right now."

"She's also the only one of us whose location is not going to change," Sayid reminded him. "Widmore is a powerful man. He would be willing to spend any amount of money just have someone sent to prison just to get to her."

It was the stuff of a wild and deranged conspiracy theory, but then again, that was what their lives seemed to have become these days. Besides, Hurley knew that both Jack and Sawyer would never forgive themselves if something happened to her because their minds were elsewhere. "Um, what exactly do we do?" he asked Sayid. "I have no idea how anyone breaks _in_ to prison."

Sayid thought furiously for a couple of moments. Then something came to him. "Ana Lucia. She was an officer for the LAPD."

"What are you thinking?" Hurley asked.

"Didn't you tell me that someone in her family was also in the department?"

It hit him. "Teresa Cortez. Her mother was a lieutenant." He hesitated for a moment. "This could bring up problems with our story."

Sayid knew what he was talking about. Ever since they had come to back to civilization, they had been telling their story based on the fact that they assumed only the people who were in the fuselage had survived. This had made sense, since nobody in the tail section had come on Penny's boat. Hurley had made an effort to reach out to some of the survivors but had given no indication that he had known anyone else.

"Use your best judgment, Hurley." Sayid said. "You've demonstrated since we've gotten back that you're smarter than you give yourself credit for being."

Teresa Cortez knew that she had been a bad mother. She had always tried to be loving to her daughter, trying to make up for everything her father had taken when he had disappeared from their lives when Ana was nine. But her ambition had always gotten in her way, and she knew it had done damage to her daughter. Was that the reason Ana had become a cop? Because that was the only way she thought she could get close to her mother?

Whatever the reason, it hadn't worked. If anything, working together had just put up more barriers to their relationship. Then Ana had gotten shot. And it was only when she was at the hospital that Teresa had learned she would've been a grandmother.

She should've put Ana out of the force right then. The minute she was conscious, Ana was trying too hard to pretend she was fine. Had she been planning even then what she was going to do? She had done everything in her power to isolate herself from everyone she loved. She broke up with her boyfriend, cut herself off from her partner, and hadn't let Teresa attend physical therapy or the counseling sessions. All she wanted was to get back on the street.

Teresa had done everything in her power to find the bastard who had shot her daughter. Perhaps in some perverse way, she had been hoping that this would prove to Ana that she loved her. Instead, she had gone in and failed to identify Jason McCormack. A day later, McCormack was dead. And that had been the last time she'd even seen her daughter in the flesh.

The last time she'd spoken to Ana had been September 21, 2004. Her daughter had called her, and told her she was in Sydney, that she missed her mother, and that she was coming home. She actually sounded happy. Teresa had tried to take comfort in that when her plane never came into LAX. That her daughter had been happy.

Knowing that your daughter was dead was bad. Learning that there had been survivors of Oceanic 815 and that none of them had known anything of her, had been sitting right across from her and not even known her, was even worse. She knew that the survivors weren't telling the truth about how they survived or how they'd been rescued. But there was nothing she could do. She went to the memorial service, and that was it. She didn't even have a body to bury.

Her friends and colleagues – some of whom had lost their own family in the line of duty – had done everything they could to try and get her to move on with her life. And she had done everything she could to move forward. But it was so damn hard. After Mike had made detective, he had insisted on being transferred into the Southland Division. In his own way, he was going through his own grief as well. But no one how much guilt she was personally carrying, not even Mike. Her daughter had been broken, but she could've been fixed. Every day, she kept hearing the words that Ana Lucia had told when she said she wanted a car: "Are you telling me this as my lieutenant or as my mother?" That had hurt in ways that Teresa had never been able to get over. Mainly, because she had always seen Ana as her daughter first and a cop second. Why the hell had she never told her that?

She'd been working the same shift for the past year and a half, taking every night shift she could, so she could avoid her bed. Getting drunk more often than she used to. So far, she was still holding it together at work, bur she knew it was a front. _Guess it runs in the family,_ she would say to herself at night when she couldn't sleep.

A lot of cops, when they lost their families or their friends, ended up killing themselves. Or, as the party line went, they died when they were cleaning their service weapons. She'd been to more than her fair share of funerals caused by 'gun accidents'. She had been trying to leave her service weapon at work, but that wasn't much of a distraction these days. A lot of the time, she would take it out of its case, and start opening and closing the clip.

Her phone chose that moment to ring. Probably one of the bosses come to bitch about the unit's clearance rate, she thought to herself. She let it ring twice before she picked it up. "Cortez," she said slowly.

There was a hesitation on the other end. "Um, excuse me." The voice sounded a little scared. "My name is Hugo Reyes."

Teresa knew the name instantly. She'd memorized the list of Oceanic survivors the minute they'd been rescued. "Yes, Mr. Reyes," she said slowly.

Another pause. "I know I'm, like, probably violated a few dozen rules of protocol, but something's come up that requires police assistance."

Indeed. Hugo Reyes was one of the wealthiest men in the country, not to mention one of the most famous. There were at least half a dozen people in private security he could've called; hell, he probably could've interrupted the Chief's dinner, and not gotten any complaints. But he'd called her. He knew her daughter had been on the plane, and was somehow trying to use this as a kind of personal connection, even though when she'd talked to him at the memorial, he'd told her he'd never met Ana Lucia. 'So why did you call me?" she demanded.

Another, even more interminable pause. "Your daughter was in the tail section of the plane," Reyes began slowly. "After the crash, we assumed that her section had landed in the ocean, and that everybody in it had died." A longer hesitation. "We were wrong."

A wound that had never fully closed in Teresa Cortez's soul began to ache for the first time. In a way, she welcomed it – it was better than the deadness that seemed to fill every part of her day. "You've been telling the world…"

"We've been lying," Reyes said slowly. "I didn't think we should have lied, but I was talked out of it. I get the reasoning behind it, a lot of what happened to us was pretty darn unbelievable, but I still think we should've told the families of the survivors. And that includes you."

She wasn't sure she had the power to be angry – she just felt so damn disappointed. "What happened to my daughter?"

Another long pause. "She was murdered. Along with" he swallowed, "someone I cared about very deeply."

For the first time in a long time, Teresa Cortez was utterly confused. "What are you talking about?"

"Lieutenant, it's a long, complicated, and weird story, and if you want to meet when this is all over, I'll tell you every last detail. But right now, here's what you should know. Your daughter was killed because of some very bad people on that island. People me and my friends hoped that we'd gotten away from when we were rescued. Turns out we were wrong. Those people are back, and they have no problem picking up where they left off."

"And for that, you want what: police protection?" Teresa seized on the one concrete thing she could hold on to."

"Not for me. For Kate Austen."

This conversation kept making less and less sense. "Kate Austen's in prison."

"I know. I visit her every week. I know where she is twenty-four hours a day. So do these people."

"Mr. Reyes, I'm not sure exactly what you think I can do."

"Can't you, like, use your authority, and make sure that Kate's under constant police protection? Say she has vital information about the Escobar cartel or the bloods and the crips or whatever?"

Did Hugo Reyes seriously get all his information about the drug war from _Miami Vice_? "Mr. Reyes, this isn't how we operate here?"

"You don't, like, work for the LAPD?"

She should really end this conversation. "Sir—"

"Look, I'm not making a hell of a lot of sense. But here's the point. There are bad people who want to kill me and my friends. Now, I can take care of myself, and so can most of them. So could Kate, under most circumstances. But right now, she's in a dangerous spot. And I need someone to protect her, and you're like the only person in law enforcement I have a connection with. I need you to help me. That's what the police do. That's what Ana Lucia would do."

It was a cheap shot that wouldn't have worked. But this man knew her daughter. He clearly didn't know what Ana had done before she had gotten on the plane, but for whatever reason, he clearly still believed in the best in her. And even after everything that had gone on between them, Teresa wanted to believe in the best of her daughter – and in herself.

"What's the name of the facility Kate Austen is being held in?" she asked, picking up a pen.

James had always been the kind of person who, if he didn't laugh in the face of danger, would at least give it a sarcastic nickname and smirk at it. But ever since he has gotten back to Seattle from LA two weeks ago, he had strangely enough, gotten quieter and quieter.

Of course, that was because he really wasn't Sawyer any more. Everyone who had come away from the plane crash knew that there had always been aware that Sawyer was a completely different man than James Ford. Most of the survivors, in fact, were astonished by the difference, particularly Jack. The biggest difference had been that Sawyer had, time and again, done everything possible to drive people away from him. James, on the other hand, was warm, less cruel in his humor, and actually charming. But Sawyer lived like he had nothing to lose, and James clearly did. And right now, James was terrified that people he cared about were in danger.

Jack, who understood better than anybody what it meant to have people living or dying based on your decisions, finally talked to him about it after a late shift at Seattle Grace. James hadn't been crazy about him or Juliet keeping to their schedule the last week, but he clearly thought that interrupting their normal routines would give away to Widmore or whatever people were watching them that they knew something was up. They might have been suspicious if they'd known James Ford had been packing a nine millimeter for the last week, but that was a different problem.

"You clutch that thing much tighter, all you'll do is blow off your trigger finger," he said as he came up to him.

James gave what was for him, a shade of his old grin. "At least, you wouldn't have to pull the bullet out with tweezers and mini-bottles of vodka."

"So there is an advantage to being back in civilization," Jack said.

"You know, all the time we were on that rock, never occurred to even ask you how you know to handle one of those things," James said, casually. "Figured you LA doctors were anti-gun as a matter of choice."

"You obviously didn't spend enough time in LA," Jack said. "After the riots in '92, there was a time where everybody figured they needed some kind of protection. My father was against it, so naturally I got one. And then, I locked it in my desk drawer, and never used it."

"Carried it pretty well when we were out hunting Others," James reminded him.

"Just consider yourself lucky I never had occasion to fire," Jack told them. "I was always a pretty crappy shot. Could not hit the broad side of a barn."

James shook his head. "What?"

"Look at the two of us, having a civilized conversation," James said. "I'm willing to bet you everybody who came back with us would never have bet on that ever happening. I sure as hell wouldn't have, and I'm rich."

Jack was actually amused by the idea, too. "I don't think even Hurley would believe it."

James looked into the distance. "When Kate and Sayid were off trying to get you back from the Others, we were all kind of, you know, lost. About three days before you showed up, Hurley kind of tricked me into thinking there was going to be some kind of vote as to whether or not, I could stay with the group." Jack raised an eyebrow. "Hell, you know that guy was always smarter than he looked. Anyway, I spent the next day persuading everybody I wasn't the asshole I had been for the last two months, and when I found out there was no vote, I got pissed. And then old Hugo told me that I needed to be nice if I was going to be the new leader."

Jack had heard this story from Claire a while ago, but it was still a little weird to hear it. "And he picked you for the job."

James actually looked a little sheepish. "Kate, Sayid and Locke were gone. When I gently told Hurley I didn't want the job, he reminded me you kinda got drafted. I didn't think I was cut out for it. I mean, I gave you a lot of shit when you were leading us, but I saw just how much it took out of you. Especially every time somebody died." James looked at him. "How the hell did you handle it?"

"Not very well, in case you've forgotten," Jack said slowly. "Every time someone challenged me, I took it as an offense. You have no idea how many times I just wanted to throw up my hands, and say: 'Fine! You do it!'" Hell, when you made your little play to be the new sheriff, I was so tempted just to throw up my hands, and let everybody come to you."

"Well, you remember how well that worked," James reminded him. "And now, that I seem to have become, if not a sheriff, at least a lawman, I could really use some advice."

Jack wasn't exactly shocked at this. "There anything new on the grapevine?"

James walked over to the window. "See that car over there?" He pointed to a blue Volkswagen Beetle. "That bug has been parked outside your house and Juliet's at least three times for the past two days. I may not know surveillance, but I was a crook long enough to spot a tail."

"I don't suppose any of us know anyone who could run the plates," Jack asked.

"Not for a long time," James told him. "And it's not like it would tell us much. Whether they're Widmore's people or the Others, you got to figure they got cover stories."

"You know, we _are_ sort of celebrities," Jack reminded him. "We could call the cops. Say we're being harassed."

James looked a little shocked at this. "Good thinking, Doc. Probably wouldn't do much good, though. It'd tip our hand, and they'd probably have some kind of replacement in a few hours."

That did seem likely. "Any strategy that doesn't end up with guns being fired?" Jack asked.

"I was kind of hoping you could think of one," James admitted. "Honestly, they've probably had a dozen chances to kill us since this got started. For whatever reason, they ain't doing it. Kinda makes me things there with the Others rather than Widmore's people."

"What makes you say that?" James told them.

"They wanted us alive. Had no problem beating the shit out of us or drugging us, but they stopped short of killing us. People Widmore sent…" James trailed off. He didn't have to finish the sentence. They both knew how lucky they had been to escape from them.

A thought occurred to Jack. "Juliet still asleep?" Her last shift had ended two hours before Jack's.

"Been chewing it out with her the last couple of days," James told him. "She doesn't know about Ben's off-island operation or Widmore."

"Yeah, but she _does_ know Others." Jack reminded them. 'Besides, I think the more minds we have working on this problem the better."

James considered this. "All right, but you get your sister out here," he finally said. "She's got a clear head. Maybe there's something we're missing."

About thirty minutes later, the four of them tried to regroup. "All right. What we know for sure is that both Widmore's people and Ben's think we're important enough to keep tabs on nearly two years after we come back to civilization," Jack said. "Question is, what for?"

Claire gently raised her hand. 'Maybe Widmore thinks we can find the island somehow," she said. "It's what he sent the freighter to do, and he probably tried to send Desmond, however indirectly to find it."

That was an absolutely insane suggestion – and also the only real reason Jack could think why they would be watching them in the first place.

"Jules, that bug-eyed bastard was pretty clear that no one was allowed to leave," James told them. "You ever hear any rules about being allowed to come back?"

Juliet considered it. "There were clearly exceptions to every rule," she reminded them. "Ben sent Richard and Ethan to recruit me in the first place, so there must have some things that I didn't know about. And I know that on occasion, Tom would be allowed to make trips of his own for business and pleasure."

They all looked at her a little strangely at that last word. "Tom had a… friend in New York," she said slowly.

Jack actually chuckled. "Juliet, we're in Seattle. It's alright to say he was gay."

James nodded at this. Claire, however, looked a little baffled. "When Kate was getting dressed, Tom went out of his way to say that "she wasn't his type," James explained.

"I got it. I'm just surprised Ben would allow someone on island business time to make a booty call." Claire said.

Juliet started chuckling first, and then they all followed. The absurdity of the situation really was too much, and they needed to laugh at something.

"But seriously, Jules," James finally said after regaining control of himself. "You think there is some kind of way to get back to the island. That crazy old woman in the church didn't look like she was there because she found God."

"Good point," Jack said. "How the hell did that submarine find the island in the first place?"

"Remember, I was drugged, and so was everybody else on the sub," Juliet told them. "I never did get a clear idea how they found the island in the first place. Only that it had something to do with the sonar that was connected to the Flame and the Looking Glass."

"And when the sky turned purple, they supposedly lost contact with the mainland," Jack said.

"So said Ben," Claire reminded them. "And remember, the freighter didn't need it to find the island."

"Well, Widmore used to be an Other. And he had a lot of resources. Miles told me that he spent a lot of money trying to get information on the Black Rock, which somehow managed to land in the jungle," James told them. "I'm guessing that ship didn't come there because Scotty didn't forget to push the button one day."\

"What are you trying to say, James?" Juliet asked.

"That island was practically Alcatraz for all of us," James told them "But for the people you lived with, it was Atlantis. They thought something special was on it, and that only special people could get there. For whatever reason, they thought that meant us."

"I'm not sure I like the sound of that," Jack said slowly. "Kind of makes us seem like chess pieces."

"Ain't wild about it either, Doc," James admitted. "But you got to admit, that sounds like how Ben Linus thought of us."

"Well, since I left that place to get away from Ben, I am in no mood to deal with either of them," Juliet told them. "Which brings us back to the original question: how the hell do we get rid of them?"

Jack and James looked at each other sheepishly. "We were hoping you could tell us," Jack finally said.

And at that moment, James' cell rang. All four of them were so wound up, they jumped a little. "I sure as hell hope that's not somebody doing a poll for Widmore Industries." Jack said first.

"I got a major customer complaint here," James said as he answered the phone. "Yeah?"

"Mr. Ford, my name is Ilana Verdansky. I'm with Tawaret Security," the voice on the other end said. "I was referred to you by a Hugo Reyes."

They had discussed some kind of extra protection. James was just a little surprised that it was getting her now. "I see," he said in the same neutral tone before he was ready to use a con.

"I've just arrived from our Tacoma office. We were wondering if we could come in."

"Just a moment," James turned to Juliet. "Get the Big Man on the phone right now. Doc, come with me."

As they walked to the front door, James handed Jack his weapon. "You still remember how to use one of these?"

"What's going on?"

"Hurley said he was going to get some extra security. Right now, there's a woman outside our front door saying that she's here to rescue us. Except I ain't about to fall for the Wookie prisoner transfer."

"Okay. How do you want to play this?" Jack said slowly.

James shook his head. "I hope I don't blow any good karma that I've spent the last two years building up on this."

After a minute of James looking at the security badge through the peephole, James opened the door. Two people, a woman with olive skin and dark curly hair, and a muscle-bound brute entered the room.

"Put your hands where I can see them," Jack demanded, pointed his weapon at the two of them.

"There's clearly been some misunderstanding," the woman – Ilana – told them

"I sure as shit hope so," James told them, as he patted them down and pulled their weapons from them. "But after what we've been through, my friends and I have a bit of trouble trusting new people. So both of you are going to stand with your hands against the wall, let me pat you both down, and you're going to wait for this to check out."

"I understand you're afraid, my friend," the man told them.

"Don't call us friends, cause I don't know you," James' voice suddenly got really harsh. "And no matter what you think you know you have no idea why we need protection."

"According to Mr. Reyes', someone working for Charles Widmore has decided that you and your fellow survivors from Oceanic 815 are dangerous. He believes you and your friends need protection." Ilana was remarkably calm, considering that she had a gun to her head. Then again, if you were working in security, that was probably a prerequisite.

"And that whole story doesn't strike you as a little odd?" Jack said.

"My personal feelings are irrelevant. What matters is how viable the threat is." Ilana told them. "And given some of the stories our associates have told us about Widmore, we consider them very valid."

"James" Juliet's voice had a quiet authority that James hadn't heard since she had been holding a gun on Tom nearly three years ago. "Hurley says it okay."

James finally relaxed a little. Hurley might not be book smart, but he'd always had a better sense of who to trust then any of them. ""He can vouch for their bona fides?"

Juliet nodded. "Put the gun down, Doc." He turned to them. "Sorry about the whole stop and frisk thing, but we're all a little jumpy."

"Like I said, Mr. Ford, we've done our homework. Given the circumstances, I can see why trust might be an issue."

Claire looked at them. "Does that mean you know who this man has sent?"

"Miss Littleton, right?" Ilana told them. "We've spent the last week trying to gather intel on the men Widmore might have been choosing to target you. And while we're not sure which specific goons and thugs he'll send, we know the man who acted as the middleman." She turned to her colleague, who was putting his weapon back in his holster. "Bram?"

Bram – the brawny guy – took out a small file. "His name is Matthew Abaddon. His official job for Widmore since 1999 is executive assistant. Unofficially, he's been responsible for several clandestine operations for his company in places as diverse as Tunisia and Uganda to right here in California. The clearest connection that might have something to do with you and your friends is around November of 2004."

"What specifically?" Jack asked.

"He helped negotiate with a shell company the purchase of a mass grave in Bangkok, a week before it was announced that the wreckage of 815 had been found." Ilana told them.

The four of them looked at each other. "Where'd did you get this information?" Juliet asked.

"A whistleblower within the company," Bram said. "His body washed up on the shore of San Diego yesterday. We have every reason to believe your concerns are valid."

Juliet looked at them, and then pointed to the window. "Someone's been following me going to work the last two days," she said slowly. "Is that your people?"

Now Ilana and Bram looked at each other. "Can you describe the vehicle?"

"It's three different cars. But trust me, I could point them out." Juliet told them again. "Are they your people?"

"This isn't good," Ilana told them. "We only flew in twelve hours ago. If Widmore's people are getting this bold in following you, they must be planning to escalate."

 _Escalate._ They meant kill. A sick feeling began to mass in James' stomach.

"Why?" Claire demanded. "What do they want with us?"

"That doesn't matter," Bram assured them. "Our job is to protect you, and that's what we'll do."

It was meant to sound reassuring, James knew, but they had all seen what Widmore's people had been capable on the island. They might not start firing machine guns in public, but Eloise Hawking's words: "Be careful crossing the street" started to ring in his mind. They were willing to kill to get what they wanted, and for whatever reason, they wanted him and his friends.

"What do you need us to do?" Jack asked.

"Try to go about your normal lives," Ilana told them. "Our people will be following you from a discreet distance. Dr Shephard, I understand that you and Dr. Burke work at the same hospital. We're going to need to talk to your superiors, see if we can find a way to coordinate with as little interference as possible."

"That's going to cause some headaches regardless," Juliet told them.

"We'll do the best we can to be non-obtrusive," Bram during to Claire. "Miss Littleton, I'm sorry, we're probably going to have to restrict your movements. It's the only way we can protect you and your family."

James expected Claire to raise more of an objection, but she was quiet. No doubt she was thinking about Aaron.

"What can I do?" James told them.

"Mr. Ford, we understand your concerns…" Ilana began.

"I'm not asking for permission," James told them bluntly. "No offense, but I ain't sitting still while my friends are in the crossfire."

He really expected someone to raise an objection – if not the people from Tawaret, then surely Juliet or Jack. But his friends knew how stubborn he was, and apparently the security people didn't either.

"You know how dangerous these people are, Mr. Ford," Ilana said.

"That's why I'm volunteering."


	18. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

After all of the effort it had taken to find who Penny's mother was in the first place, it seemed almost an anticlimax that Sarah Milton was living in such a normal location in Wessex. There was no gunfight, no high speed chase, and no armed guard. She had been living in the same apartment building for nearly fifteen years. She hadn't even bothered to live under an assumed name.

"You sure you're ready for this?" Desmond asked his wife for the third time in an hour. The three of them had been parked outside her building for the last twenty minutes, trying to work out exactly what they'd say

"Not really," Penny admitted. "But if this woman has answers, I want to hear them. And I'm not just talking about that sodding island."

Desmond had his own set of questions, and only a couple of them dealt with Charles Widmore. He wanted to know – hell, he needed to know – why a mother would abandon her child, much less to someone totally unfit for fatherhood as Widmore was. Maybe it was something of the pot calling the kettle black – considering he'd broken Penny's heart much the same way – but he needed to understand why

He turned to the back seat. "Keep an eye on Charlie and on this building," he told Michael.

"You sure you want me to get out of here before I warn you?" Michael asked.

"I promised I'd keep Penny safe," Desmond told them. "You need to keep a watch over our son."

Michael nodded. "I hope you find what we've been looking for," he said sincerely.

All the way to the apartment Desmond kept waiting for something to happen – another auto to pull out and run them over, a sniper to take him out, a bomb to go off the moment they pushed the up button on the lift. None of those things happened. None of that did anything to ease his mind. None of those people on that island ever forgot or forgave – according to Penny, her father had been in exile for more than twenty years, and it was more than clear that he could never come back. And he knew goddamn well that Charles Widmore held grudges for even longer. So even though Sarah Milton had only a tangential link to the island, and none of Ben Linus' people may have even known what she looked like by now, it just didn't make sense that nobody would be bothering to be either looking for her or protecting her. This Hawking woman knew where to find her. Why had nobody come looking for her then?

Finally, they walked up to the door. It took Penny a long time to work up the nerve to push the bell. For several moments, no one came. Penny was about to push the button again, when the door was opened… by a woman who was clearly not old enough to be Sarah Milton.

"Who're you?" The voice had a slight Irish tilt, but there was nothing pleasant about it.

"I'm sorry, does Sarah Milton live here?" Desmond asked.

The woman was in her twenties with brownish hair. "My name is Abigail Spencer. I'm Miss Milton's caretaker. And she's in no condition to be seeing strangers."

There were all kinds of implications in that statement, none of them promising. Penny tried speaking now. "We've traveled a long way to talk with Miss Milton," she tried again.

"I don't right care if you've come from Kalamazoo," Abigail snapped. "Miss Milton suffered a stroke last year. She's been bedridden for nearly as long. So unless you're from the bleeding insurance company…"

"She's my mother," Penny finally realized that this might be the only way to get past her.

The look of hostility was replaced by one of confusion. "When she went to the hospital, they said she had no next of kin."

"I didn't know where she lived or even her full name until a few months ago," Penny replied. "If I had, I would be taking care of her, not you."

Abigail considered this for a few moments, and then opened the door wider. "Come in."

The apartment was nice enough for a working class flat, but it sure as hell wasn't suited to someone who'd been involved with a billionaire.

"From what I understand, Miss Milton was always a good person," Abigail said. "Friendly to everyone she met, always willing to give her money and time to any worthy cause. Spent every waking moment working for charities and goodwill. She was at the local Salvation Army when it happened."

"How is she doing?" Penny asked.

"Paralysis on her left side," Abigail told her. "Mind's still working fine. Most of the time, anyway."

'What do you mean?" Desmond asked.

"She'll be perfectly coherent eighty, maybe even ninety percent of the time," Abigail said slowly. "Then she'll start babbling about utter nonsense. How she was once the beloved of one of the most powerful men in the world, until she found out he was using her and that he blamed her for destroying his life."

Desmond loved Penny, but even he couldn't bear to look at his wife at that moment. "How is she doing now?" he asked instead.

"Today's one of her better days," Abigail told them. "She's fairly coherent. But I have to tell you. I don't know how she'll be able to deal with what you're going to tell her."

They knew this whole trip might end up being for naught, but right now Penny didn't care, and her husband was having similar difficulties. And that became very clear when they walked into the bedroom.

Based on what they knew, Sarah Milton was in her early sixties, but she looked quite a bit older. How much of that was due to her illness and how much to the strain of living with her secrets was impossible to tell, but even so, Desmond could still see bits of his beloved in her eyes, her hair, and her jaw.

"If you want, I can step outside," he whispered to her.

Penny was a strong woman, but Des could see that she was struggling not to break down. Regaining the patience that must have held her together over and over during their years apart, she regained her composure. "I want my mother to meet the man I love," she said slowly. "I want her to know that her daughter turned out all right."

Desmond nodded.

Abigail knelt by Sarah. "Miss Milton, there are a couple of people who want to see you."

Sarah sat up. It clearly took a bit of effort but she managed it. She took a long look at Penny. "Come closer, dear," she said in a whispery voice.

Slowly, Penny did. "You look… so much like her," she said slowly. "Are you… her?"

Desmond felt a chill go down his spine that had nothing to do with the woman in front of him.

"Who do you think I am?" Penny said as steadily as she could.

"He said I'd never see you again," Sarah said slowly. "He said that was the cost. But you… are you my daughter?"

The reserve broke for both of them. Penny couldn't run into her mother's arms, given her condition, but they both started crying. Desmond hadn't seen Penny this emotional since the day Charlie was born. And he walked out of the room, determined to give them as much time as they needed.

"Did she ever mention that she had a daughter?" he asked Abigail.

"She said that she lost child years ago," Abigail told him. "I assumed she'd had some kind of miscarriage. How did this happen?"

"We're still trying to find out," he admitted. "Has anyone else come to see her since she came back from hospital?"

"Half the neighborhood. Miss Milton is much loved by everybody here."

"Anyone who doesn't seem they belonged? Someone Miss Milton didn't know?"

Abigail Spencer was clearly no fool. "Mr., I'm sorry what was your name again?"

"Hume. Desmond Hume."

"Mr. Hume, what exactly is going on here? Why have you just made contact with Miss Milton right now?"

How to explain the insanity that had surrounded them for nearly a decade to a total stranger? How to make sense of something he could barely understand himself? He took a deep breath. "Miss Spencer, Sarah Milton wasn't deluded when she told you that a powerful man had destroyed her life/"

Abigail locked the door. "Who's her father?"

"Charles Widmore. And he's not someone you want to mess with."

This poor woman who had never asked to get involved in this war, sat down heavily. "How the devil did she meet him?"

"We're hoping she could tell us," Desmond admitted. "Is there anything she said that you thought was gibberish that could be helpful?"

Abigail thought for a moment. "Most of the people who came I recognized from around the neighborhood. But there was one man who didn't seem to fit in. Said that he thought he was looking for his father, but when he found out that Sarah had some kind of stroke, he changed his mind and tore out of here."

"I don't suppose he gave you his name," Desmond said.

"Just his first name. Daniel. Short man, about eight or nine years younger than you, dark hair, fringe of a beard. Sounded like he was from America."

That didn't sound like any of Widmore's people. Could this be Eloise Hawking's child? Penny's half-brother? He filed this away to tell her later. "There isn't any chance that Widmore himself came down here?"

"Believe me, if he'd been down here, I'd have recognized him," Abigail assured him. "Now that I think of it, there was one man who did seem rather strange about three months ago. He said that he was old friend of Sarah's from quite a while back That there had been some conflict between her family and his friends and he wanted to see her to offer his condolences."

"Did they talk?"

"I never let him in the place. There was just something squirrelly about the man. He'd said he'd known her when she was younger, but the man was my age, maybe a few years older. I told him to get lost, and I never saw him again."

A dim picture was starting to form in Desmond's head. "Do you recall his name?"

"Richard something. Dark hair, sleeves coiffed, and the guy was wearing more makeup than I was."

He knew it was because Kelvin had kept him in the Swan for all those years, and therefore he'd never gotten a real chance to be the 'hostiles'. But Desmond was pretty sure that sometime recently Sarah Milton had been visited by Richard Alpert, the Other who according to his friends, had been on the island for a very, very long time. Prior to their going on this trip, Juliet had told him that Richard didn't age the way normal people did. Even given the stories of the island, Desmond had a hard time believing that one. But if it were true, he might very well have known Widmore from the time that he was supposedly on the island. But considering the stories that he was loyal to the island, rather than any particular person on it, there was a very good chance that he was working for Ben Linus now.

"Did you tell Sarah about either one of these men?" he asked.

"I didn't tell her about Daniel, and he's never come back." Abigail thought for a couple of moments. "The other man, he might be hanging round somewhere. Think I've seen him a couple of times I went down to the shop."

"You're sure it was him?"

"I may have trouble remembering faces, but it'd be impossible to forget those eyebrows."

"How recently?" Desmond demanded.

"Maybe a couple of weeks ago." Abigail put her hands on her hips. "You honestly think he'd try to hurt poor Miss Sarah?"

"No, but I know some people who work for him who wouldn't think twice about it."

Michael hadn't had the best reputation even before he'd sold his soul. He'd been very quick to make judgments and easy to put blame where it didn't belong. But he intended to make the most of his second chance, and he intended to keep his word to Desmond.

And then, he saw someone who might very well shoot it to hell. It wasn't Ben Linus, but it was another face he'd never forget. He'd only seen it twice in his entire life, but given the circumstances, it wasn't a face he'd ever forget.

He got on the cell, and ducked back into the car, hoping like hell Others didn't have super eyesight along with super strength.

"We got a problem," he told Desmond. "One of them is on your block."

"You're sure?"

"He was one of the bastards who kept watch over me while they were running tests on me," Michael told him grimly. "I'm sure."

There was a long pause. "Can you describe him?"

"Tall, dark hair, dark eyebrows. Think he's Spanish or something. You want me to get back to the harbor?"

Another long pause. "Plans have changed."

Michael listened for a couple of moments, and then hung up.

Then he drove the car right up to where Richard Alpert was standing, and rolled down the window.

"Get in the car, you sonofabitch," he said, pointing his gun.

Richard's face, as it always seemed to do on the island, didn't change. He just got in the car.

"You don't have to do this, Michael," he said in that ever irritating calm.

"I've wanted to put a bullet in one of you since you took my son off my raft," It was taking all of Michael's self-control to keep his voice as level as Richard's. "And you know well how capable I am of it."

"Would it make any difference if I told you that you might actually be doing me a favor by shooting me?" Richard said just as calmly as before.

Michael was caught off-guard, which was hardly a shock – the Others had that quality.

"We never wanted to hurt you or your son," Richard said slowly. "But we all answer to somebody, and that someone told us we had to do it."

"Man, shut up!" Michael blurted. "All we did on that island was listen to your bullshit! You talked and you talked, and you never gave us a straight answer. You know why we hated you so much? Because it always talked to us like you were ten steps ahead of us, and expected us to he the same! So stop fucking around, and tell us the damn truth!"

Richard looked right at Michael. "I don't suppose it would make any difference to you if I told you I felt the same way a lot of the time. For much, much longer than you can possibly imagine."

Michael rejoinder was halted when he looked into Richard's eyes. There was a level of honesty in them that he had never seen in any of the Others that he had dealt with. "What are you doing here?" he asked simply.

"I'm here," Richard told him, "because John Locke sent me."

That made about as much sense as anything else that he could've told him – which was to say, none. "What are you talking about?"

"After you left – after you friends left – there was what you in the modern world could refer to as regime change," Richard said very simply. "I know that you have no reason to believe me, but Locke was always very special. We – my people – now follow him."

Based on what Sayid and Desmond had told him about what had happened after he and Walt had left the island, there was a certain crazy logic to this. "What happened to Ben?"

"He was exiled. And before he left, he said that he would find his way back, no matter what it took." Richard said grimly.

"Is he working with Widmore?" This seemed to be the nightmare scenario.

Richard shook his head. "The two of them would sooner destroy the world than share in it. But Ben has allies. He always has. And you know better than anybody how ruthless he can be to get what he wants."

"What do we have to do with it?" Michael demanded.\

"There are things on the island that only certain people – people like me and now Locke – are privy to. Once John learned them, he learned that parts of his responsibilities are to protect certain people."

"I swear, if this conversation ends with us having to go back to the island, I will put a bullet in you right now, damn the consequences," Michael was certain this where the conversation was going.

"You don't understand. _You_ don't have to come back any more. There was a position that needed to be filled, and Locke was more than happy to do it. If anything, he wants to make sure you're safe." Richard looked at him. " _That's_ why I am here. John sent to me and his people to try and protect you and your friends from Widmore and Ben."

Just then, Desmond rapped on the window. His gun was drawn, too. "Whose side is he on?" he demanded.

"He says he's on ours," Even given all the bombs that Alpert had dropped in the last couple of minutes, Michael was still not inclined to believe anyone who'd spent so many of his years along side Widmore and Ben, and his tone reflected that.

"And that's why you're standing right out Penny's mother's home, a woman who never even set foot on your bloody island," Desmond was even less inclined to give this man any credit.

"Your mother-in-law is just a pawn to Widmore and Ben," Richard reminded them.

"Tell us something we don't know," Desmond argued.

"Ben sent someone to poison her."

Even though Desmond had suspected something horrible like this could have happened, a dark part of him was actually relieved. For a horrible moment, he had considered that Charles might have poisoned the woman he had fathered a child with merely to draw his daughter out. It was a ghastly possibility that he had thought very plausible.

"There are drugs that can deliver the symptoms of a stroke with a heavy enough dosage. I'm sure some of your friends can confirm that," Richard said grimly. "A few months, someone posing as a waiter at a café Sarah frequents dosed her coffee. She suffered her attack less than an hour later."

"Why'd he do it?" Michael demanded.

"We're not sure. Could've been to draw you out, could've been to simply have revenge on one of his oldest enemies."

Michael thought about asking how they'd found out about it from the island, then figured it had something to do with those satellites he'd learned about. A more important question occurred to them. "Did Widmore even know?"

"He basically cast her aside after he was exiled. I doubt he even knows where she lives," Richard told them.

Considering Widmore's resources, Desmond seriously doubted this part, even though he did feel that Richard was right about the former part of his statement.

"How do we put an end to this war?" he asked.

"Both of them want to control the island," Richard said. "Neither has ever dealt well with rejection at any point."

Michael took from this that Richard had known both of these men for a very, very long time. This could only mean the rumors about him never aging were true. He tried to shrug it off. "What would it take for you to bring those two back to the island to fight it out?" he asked instead.

Richard looked seriously disturbed by this question for the first time in this conversation. "They've both been exiled. The rules say that they can't come back."

"Your rules didn't seem to matter much when they tried to kill us," Desmond pointed out. "And even if they did, I don't give a tinker's fart for them anymore. Her father basically made things so his own daughter can't come home. And you know just what kind of monster Ben was."

"If we were all so important, shouldn't we get a vote as to how this battle ends?" Michael countered. "Isn't that why Locke sent you in the first place?"

It seemed like Richard was about to put forth some kind of argument as to why this couldn't be allowed – the island wouldn't let him, Jacob or whoever it was who was in charge wouldn't let him . It probably wasn't so much the guns that stopped from doing so, as it was the fact that he was dealing with two men who had taken so much crap in the last few years because of the island and the people on it. The argument might have held up if they were still there, but in the middle of England, it simply wasn't holding water. "What do you want me to do?"

"First you're going to tell us how exactly we bring down Charles Widmore," Desmond told them. "And then, you're going to tell us where Ben is."

"I'm sorry it took so long to go through your records, Mr. Moriarty," the nurse told the gentleman at the hospital desk.

"It's quite all right. I've been traveling abroad the last few years. I imagine it took some time for them to process."

"What brings you back to the states?"

"Business, mostly. I have some things that I need to do before I can go home."

"Well, you may have to wait a bit longer, I'm afraid. Dr. Shephard's shift doesn't start for another hour."

"It's quite alright. I can wait a bit longer."

Technically, this was the end of the nurse's business with the new intake. But there was just something about this man that unsettled her a little. It's not that there was anything particularly off about Dean Moriarty. He had been perfectly nice to everybody, said that he had been experiencing pain in his lower back, just prior to heading back home to Vancouver, and that he had been recommended this hospital by a close associate.

But Dr. Shephard hadn't mentioned any new appointments over the last few weeks, and it was hard to understand why this man would want to pass over several other well-qualified doctors who were available right now to see a top-notch spinal surgeon. He'd claimed he'd had a tumor on his spine removed a few years ago, and while he was certain it was nothing serious, he felt it was better to be safe than sorry. It could've been the complaints of a hypochondriac, but Moriarty didn't seem worried about the possibility of recurrence. In fact, he had a copy of _Ulysses_ on his lap that he'd been casually browsing through when she'd come back with the paperwork.

"If you don't my asking, why did you want to see Dr. Shephard specifically?" she asked.

Moriarty looked at her in such a way that momentarily made her regret asking the question. Then he gave an apologetic smile. "We knew each other awhile back," he told her.

"Old friends?"

"No. I wouldn't go that far," said Benjamin Linus. "But he did a couple of important consults for me a few years ago. You could say I owe him a favor. And I always repay my debts."

The nurse seemed satisfied with this, and walked away.

Ben knew that he was running a risk coming to Seattle Grace, but his sources told him that no one from Oceanic knew he was even off the island. And once he got a hold of Jack, it wouldn't take much to get the rest of them.

Of course, he would also be able to handle a bonus. He hadn't known that Juliet would end up working here, but now that she was, he could handle her too.

And give her a proper thank you for all the hell she had brought down upon him.


	19. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

God bless the nurses at Seattle Grace.

Jack had built up a solid relationship with the nurses ever since he had joined the hospital – it had helped matters immensely that he had never even tried to hit on one. So when one of the nurses had told him that a patient had come in and specifically asked for him by name, and then given one that he had never heard of before, alarm bells went off. He didn't think Charles Widmore would've been direct enough to send someone directly to his hospital, but he wouldn't have put it past them.

Then he had seen the patient. It had taken all of his reserve, not just as a surgeon but as someone who had lived on an island with Ben Linus for three months to not give anything away. With all the nightmares that had plaguing them the last few months, he had truly hoped he had been done with this man.

His first reaction had been to tell the nurse to call the police. But what good would that do? To reveal how he knew Ben, even considering everything he had told the staff and students about the island, would open a can of worms he really did not want to deal with. And even if he did convince them of the danger, what could the authorities? He had no proof of any crimes that the man had committed. And being a sociopath didn't exactly meet the standards of the reasons to arrest him. Not to mention that he had a sinking feeling that doing that would be playing into the man's hands.

"Is there a problem?" Colleen asked.

"I want you to find Dr. Carlson, and tell her that a former patient of hers is here. Just tell her his name is Henry Gale. She'll know what I'm talking about." Jack took a deep breath. "After that, go to Weber, and tell him to seal off the hospital, but not to set off any alarms, especially on this floor. Everything has to look like its business as usual."

Colleen listened for a moment. "Is this man some kind of criminal?"

"You could say that," Jack told her slowly. "But right now, there are only two people in this hospital he really gives a damn about, and he'd be more than willing to burn this place to the ground to get us out of it."

Colleen was nervous now. "You want Weber to call the riot squad?"

 _They sent a team of mercenaries to kill him once, and he just shrugged that off._ "I'm going to try and resolve this situation myself. In the meantime, remember what I told you. No one on this floor other than Dr. Carlson is to know about this patient. This man can smell weakness, and I don't want to think what'll happen if his plans get ruined."

"I don't understand. If he's come here to kill you, why are you walking right up to him?"

"He doesn't want to kill me. He wants me to come with him."

"Nice trick actually filling out the form," Jack said, as he walked up to the man he'd spent the last two years convinced he'd gotten away from. "You always did things with a flourish."

Ben didn't even bother to look up from his book. "Anything worth doing is worth doing well."

"I'm a little surprised you didn't tell Colleen you were stopping from your hot air balloon race around the world," Jack sat down next to him.

"Why do you always have to dwell on the past?" Ben put a bookmark in his book, closed, put it down, and finally looked up. "There are so many more pleasant things to discuss."

"Enough with the small talk. Since I know you didn't bother to come all the way from the Pacific for a follow-up, I presume this is where you try to convince me to come back to the island."

"Always to the point, Jack. I missed that about you these last few years."

"Can you least say one thing without lying?" Jack sat down next to him. "You were never interested in anyone who couldn't serve your needs. So tell me, in words of one syllable, why you're here?"

Ben paused for a moment. "After you and your friends left, there were problems on the island. John took over my old position, and I was forced to leave."

"Wow," Jack said. "I don't want to think who you must've pissed off to get forced out. I mean, wasn't that your people's whole spiel? No one ever leaves the island? Oh wait, that was John's story. I guess the man and the place were truly met."

Ben clearly wasn't used to this kind of breezy sarcasm, for his response was to just keep going. "I've spent the last couple of years keeping an eye on you. Protecting you from those who want to hurt you and your friends."

Jack knew this was bullshit even if it happened to be true. "Thank you then," he said.

Ben kept his face neutral, but it was clear he was startled by this. "I know you may not believe me, but everything I did was for the good of the island. And it still is."

Jack considered this. "Where's Alex?' he asked casually. "Did the island get custody of her in the divorce?"

He barely saw one of the muscles in Ben's lower lip twitch – the closest the man ever came to screaming in pain. "She decided to stay with her mother."

"Well, considering that you kept the two of them apart for sixteen years, I'd consider that making up for lost time," Jack told him.

"Could you take this seriously, please?" Ben spoke a little faster than normal, but it was clear these last two remarks had really done damage. A more primitive part of Jack gloried in it – the man had it coming

"How seriously do you expect me to take a man who spent the first month of his relationship refusing to tell us who he really was, then kidnapped me and my friends, so I would be forced to remove a tumor on his spine?" Jack asked honestly. "You know, I never understood just how you and your people worked. Did you ever even consider that if you had just come to me and said: 'I have a tumor on my spine, and it needs to be removed" that maybe I'd have helped you? Or if you'd told us: 'You and the rest of your friends are very special. Come with us and we'll tell you why?' we just might've listened?

It was very clear from Ben's silence that not only had that idea never been considered, it had never even been on the table. "There are rules' was all he'd say.

"Well, those rules may have applied on the island, but they sure as shit down exist in civilization," Jack reminded him. "Of course, I don't expect someone who lived on the island his entire life to understand that. Except you didn't, did you?"

It was amazing how much less frightening Ben was now that he didn't have a team of Others willing to follow his every command. For the first time, he seemed like the humbug the Wizard of Oz had actually been. Or maybe it was just that they were in civilization, and Jack was in a hospital. For the first time in their entire twisted relationship, he had home field advantage.

"I don't expect you to believe me, Jack, "Ben said quietly, "but I was never as all-powerful as I seemed. I answered to somebody. And I had to do what I was told."

"Don't run this bit with me," Jack told him. "The Nuremberg defense didn't play in Nuremberg. It sure as hell won't play here. There's no power on this earth – especially on that island – that could make me feel sorry for you."

"I was hoping that I could make you listen to reason."

"You never reasoned, Ben. You lied, cheated, bullied, and manipulated. But you never reasoned. So don't come to my hospital, and try to convince me that you're still one of the good guys. That ship sailed long before the Black Rock did."

Ben looked at him. "You're not the same man who crashed on the island."

"Unlike you, I am capable of personal growth," Jack said. "Meanwhile, you keep repeating the same trick over and over. I assume you came to convince me because you figured this would get everybody else."

"That's part of it, yes." Ben's poker face was back.

"Then you really have failed in your research," Jack told him. "The day we left the island, I quit being a leader. Turns out I wasn't much better at being one that you are."

Ben just absorbed that without even blinking.

"And incidentally, everyone else now has a reason to stay. Sayid's married. Jin and Sun have a child. Hurley doesn't think he's cursed anymore. We've all forgiven Michael. I have a sister and a nephew. Oh, and by the way, if you really had been as good at your job as you thought you were, you'd have led with that when you trying to get me to operate on you."

"Always telling people how to do their jobs," Ben said calmly.

"Maybe I just recognize failed leadership when I see it," Jack said cheerfully. "So now, I have an offer for you. Walk away, Benjamin. Try to find something in this life that isn't tied to the island. Do that and I give you my word: none of us will ever try to find you. "

Ben said nothing for almost two minutes. Jack wasn't naïve enough to think he was seriously considering his offer. When it came to getting what he want, Ben didn't take anything but absolute surrender as an answer.

"You make a very tempting offer, Jack," Ben said slowly. "But I think you know by now that I always have a plan."

He spoke softly. "Bring her down."

Jack's heart sank. He knew what he was going to see, even before a blond haired woman appeared down the hallway with a gun pointed at Juliet's head.

"I know you have a habit of blaming yourself for everything, Jack," Ben said as calmly as if they were discussing the weather. "But this was something I had to do. The two of us never got a chance to talk after she betrayed her people for yours. And after everything I did for her, I'd say it's safe to say she needs to pay what she owes."\

Jack ignored her, and looked right at Juliet. "He had someone waiting for you before I could tell you that he was here," he said.

"Ben never left anything to chance," Juliet seemed to maintain the perfect level of equilibrium she'd always had when she was an Other. 'It was too much to hope he'd lose his touch away from the island."

"You do know you harm a hair on her head, James'll kill you," Jack never looked away from Juliet. "It's not like he needed an excuse before."

"What's this really about, Ben?" Juliet said calmly. "The fact that I betrayed you or that I never loved you? Because you always knew that was a one-way street."

"I'd hardly say that you're in a position to start taunting me," Ben's voice now had the level of darkness that he brought out when he was about to order an execution.

"You had a metaphorical gun at my head for three years," Juliet still hadn't met Ben's eyes. "I'm just relieved the niceties are gone at last. Now I can finally deal with you like the monster you are."

Ben looked at her. "You're the one who betrayed me."

"Stop, Ben," Juliet sounded genuinely angry now. "All you ever did was lie to me. I know that Rachel's cancer never came back. You cost me three years of my life. Three years I can never get back. And for what? Your small problem? Some misplaced crush? How many people died so that you could hold on to that little patch of territory? And now that you've lost it anyway, you come to the people you spent months torturing and ask them to help you by taking hostages? "

For a long moment, Ben didn't answer. Jack honestly expected him to give some signal for the woman holding the gun on Juliet to pull the trigger.

"I wasn't born on the island," he said slowly instead. "But I did spend thirty years on it. And I did once feel the same way you did about it. I thought it was hell. But they thought I was special. And they were willing to help me. So I pledged my service to it. My entire life. And do you know how much they told me about it?"

Ben turned towards Jack. And for the first time since he'd ever met him, he saw genuine tears in his eyes.

"Nothing. I served the island loyally. All that time serving Jacob. All those lists that he gave me, and they said that I had to wait. That I had to be patient. And what happened to me? The island gave me cancer. And my own daughter betrayed me. She chose you over me." Ben told him. "I know she was never my actual child, but I loved her as if she were my own. And then, they said John was the one they wanted to lead. All the years I did what I was told, and they threw me away just like him."

Jack didn't know which 'him' he was talking about – probably Widmore – and he really didn't care. Seeing Ben vulnerable made him something he'd never felt for the man on or off the island – sympathy. He really had been a humbug.

"Taking us hostage won't bring you back to the island." Jack said.

"I don't want the island. I never did," Ben had superhuman powers of restraint. The fact that he was so close to breaking down must have meant he was on the verge of total collapse. "I just want Alex back. And getting back there is the only way I'll ever see her again."

Juliet – who'd known for far longer than any of them what a manipulative bastard Ben Linus could be – could clearly sense it too. "Get your friend to go away, and we'll talk like reasonable people."

The blond holding the gun clearly didn't buy this. "You think for a moment we're just going to –"

"Jill, let her go," Ben said softly.

The look of shock on Jill's face was the first real sign of emotion any of them had seen. "Ben, do you know how much it cost –"

"You know perfectly well we could've taken her out of the picture any time in the last two years," Ben's voice had only a ghost of the former authority it had once had, but there was still some there. "The island doesn't need her any more. And neither do we."

Jill was clearly appalled by this, but at least someone still considered Ben to be a leader. She removed the gun from her head. Then she started to run off.

"What are you going to say when the police arrest her?" Jack asked.

"They'll never get her. She'll get out the same way she got in."

"And how the hell is she going to do that?"

"Do you really want the answer to that question when we have so little time to deal with so many more important ones?"

Considering that this was the golden opportunity to get all the answers about what the hell had been going on the three months they'd been on the island, it said a lot about where Jack was right now that his main focus was how to handle Ben.

"I did raise a considerable alarm to moment I saw you," he said casually. "And since you had to have expected that coming in, I'm a little curious to know what your exit strategy was going to be."

"You didn't tell anybody besides Juliet who I really was, did you?" Ben asked just as nonchalantly.

"That would've made a mess I really don't want to make," Jack told him. "They do know, however, that someone very dangerous is in the building."

The barest of smiles crossed Ben's face. Only he could've been flattered by that. "This wasn't the first time I left the island," he admitted. "As Juliet will tell you, I wasn't exactly strict when it came to that set of rules. And in order to make sure of that, I've established several shadow identities."

"So I'm guessing that Dean Moriarty actually has several proofs of identification," Jack said, mentioning the name that had been on the ER application.

"Benjamin Linus doesn't exist in the 'real world'. Dean Moriarty does," Ben assured him.

Jack considered this for a long moment. Then he looked at Juliet. "He did far more damage to you then he did to me," he told her, "long before he tried to hold you hostage. What I'm going to suggest may very easily turn your stomach. So I want to be sure that you'll be fine with it."

"As long at this story ends with me never having to deal with Ben ever again, I'm fine with it," Juliet said brusquely.

Jack turned to Ben. "You're probably aware that we're trying to handle Charles Widmore?" he said slowly.

"I've had suspicions," Ben said slowly.

"Then you also know that in the last couple of weeks he's considerably upped the ante," Jack told him. "There's a good chance we'll be able to make a move on him very soon, but despite our best efforts, it's very likely going to end with a lot of people dying."

"It always does with him," Ben's voice was suspiciously neutral, considering he'd been at war with this man for more than twenty years.

"All right, here is the deal, and there is no room for negotiation," Jack told him. "I know you have resources and people who'll follow you. The second you leave Seattle Grace, you are going to turn all those efforts in making sure Widmore is no longer a threat. His daughter and son-in-law aren't to be touched. As for anybody else in his organization" he paused and looked at Juliet, who gave the faintest of nods, "do what you have to do."

Ben seemed a little stunned. "I didn't think you were that cold."

"I gave orders that led to ten of your people being killed," Jack said just as casually. "You kind of held that over my head."

Juliet seemed more disturbed by this than he was. "You're not going to trust him?"

"When he tried to convince me to give me the SAT phone, he told me would kill Sayid, Jin and Bernard if I didn't," Jack reminded her. "You know as well as I do he lied about that. Ben may betray us, but he'll never have us killed. God knows you probably had plenty of opportunities."

Ben nodded. "And you're just willing to take my word for it."

"How about you swear on Alex's name that you won't do anything to harm us?"

The moment Jack said that, he knew he had delivered a surgical cut. Ben Linus believed in the safety of two things: the island and his daughter. And he'd just made it very clear which he valued more.

"I swear on Alex's life that I will keep you safe," Ben said.

Jack held out his hand. When Ben reached out to shake it, he took on a very tight grip. "That's good," Jack said in a tone that had absolutely no give to it. "Because if anything happens to any of us, I will send Sayid and James to find you. Then I'll let the two of them lock the two of you in a room, and let them do what they always wanted to do to you, but never got the chance. Do I make myself clear?"

Ben had no doubt been threatened a countless number of times over the years, and had just as likely delivered an equal number himself. However, there was coldness in Jack's tone that Juliet had never heard before, and it clearly unsettled him. "How do you intend to get me out of here?"

"Simple," Jack said. "I'm just going to call the nurse you scared the living daylights out of, and tell her I made a mistake. Then, while there's a fair amount of confusion, you crawl out whatever hole you came in to get here. I have no doubt you'll try and find us, but I want to make something perfectly clear. Never come back to our hospital. It may not be as special as your island, but people like it here. It's safe. And there's been enough bad shit happening here already without any of your bad karma. Do. You. Understand."

"Yes, Jack. I do" Ben said quickly.

"Then you'll let Juliet and I have a moment alone."

The two of them walked several feet away. "You know that I don't have to tell you that Ben can't be trusted?"

"The one less I learned on the island was that when Ben's lips are moving, he's lying," Jack assured her.

"Then what makes you think he'll keep his word now?"

"He won't," Jack took out his cell. "But I did learn some lessons from my time nursing him back to health."

"That's him," Ilana said twenty minutes later.

"How to we handle him?"

"Shephard said just to follow him at a discreet distance. When he makes his move, get in touch with our colleagues."

Bran looked at Ilana. "We're coming to the end, aren't we?"

"Our part in it, yes."

Kate had been used to being let out of the loop, at least on the island, and mostly by Jack. Finally surrendering herself to the authorities had been the hardest thing she'd ever done, but at least her friends had not deserted her.

But over the last couple of months, things had begun to change. Everybody was still coming to visit her every week – Jack was always there – but she had recently gotten the feeling that they were hiding something from her. Naturally, she had gone to Hurley, who, despite withholding personal information, had never been able to keep anybody else's secret.

Hurley had done his level best to maintain a steely façade, which had never worked particularly well for him, but he'd insisted nothing serious was going out. Over a month of quiet persistence, however, he slowly began to crack.

Finally, two weeks earlier, he had given her some of the details. And frankly, after hearing it, she was actually relieved. After all those months of Jack saying he was lying to protect her, this time he and the rest of them actually had been. Kate knew enough about the law as to just how dangerous conspiracy charges could be. And considering that there was literally nothing she could do to help from her, she understood that she had nothing to gain from knowing and everything to lose.

Then, three days ago, things had gotten weird. The warden, who liked Kate, had called her into her office, where three LAPD uniforms were waiting.

"I'm telling you, there has to be a mistake," she told them. "Miss Austen has been a model prisoner for the last year."

"This is not about anything she's done," the officer told them. "But we have a very credible threat that her life is in danger. And frankly, your prison is not the facility where we can assure her protection."

This was true. Had Kate been so inclined, she could have escaped in any of a half-dozen ways over the past fifteen months.

"I'd at least like to know what this about," the warden said. "Austen is many things but a master criminal she is not."

"There's been a threat against many of the Oceanic survivors that has become constant over the last couple of weeks," one of the officers said. "And it's become more credible in the last few days. In order to keep her safe, we need to move her to a more secure facility. We have a warrant signed by a federal judge."

The warden looked at the piece of paper, and then turned back to her. "You've done a pretty good job keeping all these secrets while you've been here," she told her. "I really hope that when this is all over, you'll finally be able to tell me what this was all about."

The warden, like all the guards, had been remarkably good to her. "Once I'm free of all this, I'll tell you everything. Trust me. It's even more unbelievable then how I ended up in Australia in the first place."

Things started to make a little more sense when she was moved to a police car, and a middle-aged Latina met here. "I'm Lieutenant Teresa Cortez," she said.

Kate recognized the name, and for a split second wondered if this was some kind of maneuver to get her to answer questions about the island.

"Hugo Reyes has made it very clear that you are important to him," she said softly. "But before we go anywhere, I need you to answer me one question."

"If I can," Kate said slowly.

"Did you know my daughter?"

Hurley clearly had put a lot of trust in this woman; Kate figured that she had to do the same. "For a few weeks, yes."

Lt. Cortez took this in. "Why didn't she come back with you?"

This was where things got slippery. She deserved to know what had happened to her daughter, but that would end up bring Michael into this. And after all the trouble they'd gone too to keep him and Walt separate from this, Kate didn't want to put him into prison. "She was murdered by a desperate man who was working under the orders of someone far more dangerous."

Cortez was a lot like her daughter; she tried to keep her emotions in check all the time. Nevertheless, Kate could tell this hit her hard. "Obviously, there is a much longer conversation here, and you and your friends will have to answer questions. But right now, I'm going to assume that these same dangerous people are still after you, and that you need to be kept safe. That's what my people are going to do."

They had then moved her to a safe-house, where she had been held under surveillance for the last two days. There was far less freedom here then when she had been in prison, ironically, but she'd been in far worse place when the marshal's service had been watching her.

"You know, you were never a high security prisoner even when you were on the most wanted list?" one of the detectives – Mike, she thought his name was – asked her as they were playing their fifth hand of gin rummy.

"What's your point?" she asked.

"Why are you in danger now?"

Kate was naturally disinclined to not trust law enforcement officers. However, he had mentioned that he had ridden a car with Ana Lucia before she had gotten on the plane. "It's a long story," she began.

"Time is one of the things we seem to have in abundance," one of the other cops said.

"The island we crashed on wasn't as deserted as we thought," she said slowly. "And the natives were not exactly friendly. They had an objection to us being there, and strangely enough, a bigger objection to us leaving. I really hoped that we'd left them all behind. Guess I was wrong."

Mike looked at her for a moment. "Why didn't your friends tell that story when they came back?"

"Believe me when I tell you it was a lot more complicated than that," Kate assured him. "And really, all of us were just hoping we could put that time somehow behind us."

"I'm guessing that's why none of your friends have written a tell-all book or gone into the merchandising game," the other detective – Gabriel, she thought his name was.

"It's not like any of us really needed the money," Kate reminded her. "Hell, I went to prison, and my attorney still managed to negotiate a decent an insurance settlement."

"You're sitting on one of the greatest stories in history, and no one is ever going to learn a word about it?" Mike said.

Kate looked at him. "If the people who are trying to kill me are who I think I am, then I think it's probably best that we keep this particular story to ourselves."

"Not even to Ana Lucia's mother?" Mike told her. "I'm probably going to get into a lot of trouble telling you this, but she's been having a hard time ever since her daughter disappeared."

Kate just considered this for a moment. "Would telling her what happened to Ana make her whole again?" she asked.\

Mike considered this himself. "Ana was shot and nearly killed about six months before she got on your plane," he told her. "I don't think _she_ ever recovered from that. She was a lot like her mother – strong, stoic, and refusing to ask for help, even when it was obvious to everybody else that she really needed it."

"I promised her I'd tell her the truth," Kate said, "But if I do that, a couple of other people that I really care about will end up paying the price."

"You seem pretty compassionate for a felon," Detective Gabriel told her.

Kate gave a small smile. "You read my rap sheet. You know I was never a particularly good criminal, either."

Mike gave a small smile. "Answer my question."

"I should tell you, Ana was not in good shape when I met her," Kate told her. "She was in the tail section of the plane. Our life was pretty hard in the early going, but it was even worse for her. She was a leader of her group, and for whatever reason, the natives when really hard after them. I don't know how badly damaged she was before she got on the plane, but she was dead inside by the time she found us. Nobody on our side ever quite warmed up to her, and I'm really sorry about that."

Mike blinked a couple of times. "That sounds a lot like her," he admitted.

There was a knock on the door. "That's probably our relief," Gabriel said, and went to the door. There was a code that was supposed to be punched in before anybody entered the room,

"I don't think the two of us would ever have gotten along," Kate admitted. "She was an ex-cop, and I was a fugitive. There was something in our makeup that would never have let us trust each other."

"Don't beat yourself up too much," Mike told her. "After the shooting, I don't think Ana ever trusted anybody again."

Kate considered this a little. She never did figure out what she was going to say next, because by then the relief had entered the room. It was a thirtyish woman with mousy brown hair and spectacles. And she seemed to be on the verge of starting an argument with Detective Gabriel.

"We have very specific orders from the Lieutenant," he was said.

"Hey, I'm just the messenger, fellas," she was telling them. "And the acting shift commander wants an explanation as to why Austen is being held here."

Alarm bells were going off in Kate's head. There was something wrong. This woman didn't scream 'cop'. But she didn't seem particularly dangerous, either. What she did seem to be shouting was 'trouble'.

"I want to talk to the commander myself," Gabriel said.

"Be my guest"

Kate could see what was going to happen moments before it did. But before she could even shot a warning, the newcomer had pulled her gun, and shot Gabriel in the chest. Mike saw what was happened and pulled his weapon. The woman aimed for his head, but only seemed able to shoot him in the neck. He still fell to the ground.

"Get up" Kate quickly realized she was going to have to reassess her opinion of this woman.

"Who are you working for?' she demanded instead.

"You're in no position to argue, Miss Austen," The woman was trying to sound threatening, but wasn't even close to pulling it off.

"You've obviously come here to kill me. I think I'm entitled to know which side you're on: Widmore or the Others."

The woman was clearly confused. "What are the Others?"

"Thank you for answering that question. Now, why exactly has Charles Widmore decided that I'm worth killing?"

"He has no intention of killing you, Miss Austen. As you can plainly see, he's gone to a lot of trouble to get your attention. Now quit stalling and start walking."

The women held the gun at chest level. If Widmore had hired her, he sure as hell wasn't recruiting the best and the brightest anymore. Even a novice could've seen that her hand was trembling. Kate probably could have taken her without much trouble, but this woman didn't seem to have a problem with killing, no matter how bad she might be at it.

Reluctantly, she headed towards the door, her 'captor' just a few feet behind her.

"Did your boss even tell you what this was about?" She said as they headed through the exit. "Or did he just throw a lot of money at you and you signed on?"

"I'd be quiet if I were you," the woman said with just a hint of irritation.

"Either way, you should probably know that people who work for Widmore, no matter how good they are or how well they follow his orders, they tend to die." Kate said as they walked down the hallway.

"I'm not going to warn you again," the woman said nervously.

Kate decided to stay quiet until they were outside. Obviously, Widmore's flunky had a strategy. Whatever it was, she was going to have to holster her weapon when they got outside. She was going to wait for her opportunity, and she had a feeling that there would be at least one. Besides, she was used to escaping far more competent professionals.

She was quiet until they got outside. Kate knew that she could have tussled with her abductor right there, but she assumed that Widmore who have been damn sure that she wasn't working alone. There was going to be a car, with at least two other people in it. She needed to get a better handle on her surroundings as well hope that the LAPD responded a lot quicker than they were known to.

"I've got her," the mousy woman said. "Get to the drop point now, Seamus."

And at that moment, Kate clocked her. The woman fell back, and she started running down the street. Her captor then showed what an idiot she clearly was by firing in the middle of a busy afternoon.

Kate had managed to cover about three blocks, not even trying to figure out what her next move was, before something occurred to her. A thought that had never been that clear in her head before.

She was doing what came easiest to her: running away. Sure, the circumstances were different, and she had a bona fide excuse, but it was the same old story. She could tell herself that she was trying to get away from Widmore goons, but she was also trying to get away from the cops, from her friends, from the whole situation. It was like that the last year and a half she had spent in prison had done nothing to her psyche, and she was running from the marshal again.

Kate had thought she had grown and changed, but as soon as there was a crisis, it was SSDD. She hadn't even given a thought to the fact that she was in the right this time, that people actually cared about what happened to her. Hell, for all she knew, Widmore or Ben or whoever the hell was coming after her now was planning on it, hoping that somehow her path would lead her to that damn island.

Suddenly, she knew what she had to do. It might not be the instinctive thing to do, it might not even be the smart thing, but it was the right thing. Kate stopped moving, and waited.

A minute later, the bespectacled woman caught up to her. "You're a hard woman to hold on to, Miss Austen," she said slowly.

"I guess you were lying about not trying to kill me," Kate said.

"You forced our hand," God, did all of these people have to talk like they were in a bad Bond movie?

"Well, whatever you're going to do, go ahead. I'm done running." Kate said.

For the first time, her would-be captor had a look of genuine surprise on her face. "I could tell you that the hard part's over, but we both know that would be a lie," she walked closer to her.

"Drop it!"

Kate had never been so glad to hear a police officer's voice. She was even more shocked to see that it was Lt. Cortez.

"You don't want to get involved in this," Her would-be abductor clearly didn't know when to quit.

"Ma'am, you're already in a hell of a mess right now," Cortez told her calmly. "Don't give me a reason to shoot you."

"Whatever you do to me is meaningless compared to what will happen if I don't carry out my orders."

"I've got two snipers with a clear line of sight on you," Cortez told her. "The only reason I'm not giving the go sign is because I'm curious as to who's worth breaking into a police safe-house in broad daylight, as well as committing half a dozen other felonies before lunch."

"You're bluffing." Kate could see the beads of sweat that had just appeared on her brow.

"Pull the trigger, lady. Let's find out."

An interminable length of time seemed to pass before the strange woman dropped on the ground.

Cortez walked up to her. "You're under arrest for two counts of attempted murder of a police officer. You have the right to remain silent, though I have to admit it's a bit overrated in this case."

Two more uniforms showed up, and took the woman who had still never revealed her name, away. Lt. Cortez walked up to Kate. "That person has something to do with the island?"

"I don't know," Kate admitted, "but she didn't strike me as the brightest of lights. Squeeze her hard enough, I have a feeling she'll tell you everything you need to know about the man she works for, and why he was trying to take me."

"You're right about that," Cortez admitted. "She didn't even seem to notice that there was an unmarked car watching the place she'd been staking out." Kate raised an eyebrow. "You have no idea how much I want answers."

"You'll get them," Kate told her. "You're about to bring down the man who was responsible for putting a fake Oceanic 815 at the bottom of the Sunda Trench, among countless other crimes. It'll make your career, but I'm guessing you don't care about that."

Teresa shrugged. "It'd be a nice bonus. But I have to tell you, I figured once the bullets started flying we'd never see you again."

"You're wrong about that, Lieutenant," Kate looked right at her. "I remembered that for once in my life, I have a reason to stay. And something tells me, I'm going to have a lot more very soon."


	20. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

"Hello?"

There was a long pause at the other end. "Sarah?"

An even longer pause. "How did you get this number, Jack?"

Jack gave a small chuckle. "You know me; I'm nothing if not persistent. Sarah, I don't want anything from you. You made your position very clear when you didn't show up in Honolulu. And I've respected your wishes and your privacy. You know that it wouldn't have taken much of an effort for me to have found you, even after nearly three years."

A long pause. "What do you want, Jack?"

"To apologize. I'm not sorry that I married you. I know that a lot of our relationship was based on a false foundation, and that is mostly my responsibility. What I am sorry about is how horrendously I acted when I found out you were with somebody else. You were right. I should've let go. If I'd just been willing to do that, maybe", he swallowed, "maybe my father would still be alive. Maybe a lot of things wouldn't have happened. But none of that had anything to do with you. And for whatever pain it caused you, I am truly sorry for that."

There was a long pause on the other end of the line. Jack considered the possibility that Sarah had hung up. "I'm sorry, too." Sarah seemed perfectly calm. "I'm sorry that I turned you into my savior. I was vulnerable, and I needed a hero. I think we caused each other far too much pain the last few months we were together, and I've thought about that a lot."

"Are you happy? With him?"

Now Sarah sounded choked up. "Yes. I am. Very much."

"That's all I need to know." Jack brushed back a tear. "That's all I ever wanted for you. "

"Why are you calling me now?" Sarah asked.

"I'm getting married tomorrow." Jack gave a small laugh. "But I'm guessing you've probably heard about it."

Sarah gave a genuine laugh. "It's kind of hard to avoid it now."

"I didn't call to rub it in your face. I just wanted you to know that the two of us were never going to work. At my new hospital, I've seen a couple of cases where it turned into an absolute disaster, and it made me realize that I should've realized what was happening before you did."

"I wasn't exactly blind."

"No you weren't. But I should've been. The two of us were each trying to fill a void in each other lives, but as much as we tried to convince ourselves of it…" Jack trailed off. "I couldn't write my vows the night before we got married. That should've been a warning bell right there."

"Improvisation never was your strong suit," Sarah actually seemed to be teasing him now.

"I've gotten better at it over the years," Jack admitted. "Point is, it wasn't love. We both should've known better. And I was trained to know better."

"Please don't tell me you're trying to fix our divorce," Sarah said.

Jack gave a genuine laugh. "Believe me; if the last three years have taught me anything, it's that I can't fix everything."

"Sorry it took surviving a plane crash for you to realize it." Another pause. "You know, of all the people I ever saw you getting married to, I never thought it'd be an ex-con."

"Kate Austen is the exact opposite of everything I looked for in a woman. She never listened to me, she was very good at pushing my buttons, and she always wanted to run away rather than stay with me. She never thought that she was good enough for me, and spent almost all her time after the plane crash dart between me and another man. Everything she did was designed to piss me off." Jack paused. "I guess in that sense, we are perfect for each other."

Sarah considered this. "I did think about coming to see you after you and your friends came back to civilization. But for all that, I guess I thought you were a part of my life I wanted to put behind me forever. I'm sorry I never reached out. Even considering how we ended things, that was very cold of me."

Jack hesitated. "You know, for all the time that we knew each other, we went from patient to confidante to lovers to married so quickly, I don't think we ever tried to just be friends. I'd be more than willing to do that now."

There was such a long pause Jack was sure that he'd pushed her away again. "You know, I actually think I'm ready for that. Can I have your number?"

"Sure. Just don't try to reach me for the next couple of weeks. Hopefully, I'll be very busy."

"I have to admit that when Jack asked me to stand up for him at his wedding, this was the part of the evening I was looking forward to the least," Sayid told the small group. "As all of us are painfully aware, Jack was always better at making speeches then the rest of us."

The laughter that filled the hall was genuine. The only people who seemed baffled were Derek and Meredith, who seemed genuinely astounded that even Izzie and Alex were chuckling.

"Is this more of this island humor?" Derek leaned over and asked Miranda.

"There were always a lot of inside jokes at the hospital that no one else gets," Miranda was smiling herself, which didn't seem normal. "Now you know how the other half lives."

The idea of keeping Jack and Kate's wedding a small and intimate affair might've been possible when Kate had gone into prison. By the time she had been released, most of the attendings, some of the residents, and even a few of the nurses were now heavily invested in the lives of the Oceanics. So Hurley had managed to rent a slightly bigger hall than had been planned – not a big problem, considering the level of name recognition – and had sent out invitations to the members of Seattle Grace who had become parts of their lives. Sloane decided to stay home with Addison's child so that she could RSVP, and the only resident who had opted out was Yang, who was still dealing with her relationship with Owen, and whose trauma from her own failed wedding was still fresh. Derek and Meredith were the only members of the wedding party who didn't know anything at all about what had happened on the island, but considering that Derek had saved Carole Littleton's life, and Jack had pretty much managed to save his career, Jack figured he owed him at least this much.

The remainder of Kate's sentence had been commuted three months earlier. Considering that she had nearly died while in police custody, her attorney had been on the phone threatening to raise another lawsuit. Kate had told Alan Shore that it really wasn't the LAPD's fault – Charles Widmore had a long reach after all – and since she had less than a year on her sentence to go, she was still feeling rather penitent.

Then she gave her attorney the abridged version of what had happened on the island, and how had spilled over to LA. Alan had sat in silence for a couple of minute.

"As my colleagues would tell you, I'm rarely at a loss for words," he finally said. "Well, now I understand why and your friends sat on the truth at your trial."

"You're not going to get in any trouble with the bar?" she asked concernedly.

"Yes, I am, but not for this case," Alan jested. "I didn't do anything illegal while I was defending you. And since your case ended in a plea bargain, the DA's not going to want to reopen yesterday's news. Your friends skated close to perjury, but since I seriously doubt that after everything you've been through the last few years, anyone's going to come to court, and raise a stink that they lied under oath. It's not exactly the stuff that movie deals are made of." He paused. "Although, if you ever _do_ decide to make a biopic, I beg you to let me have first glimpse at the treatment."

Shore had then assured her to let him negotiate with the governor to let the sentence be commuted to time served. "I have a pretty good idea that they're going to be very busy with bigger fish over the next few months."

Alan hadn't needed a crystal ball to see the future. The woman who had tried to kill her- Zoe Barko had been the poor hitters name – had been more willing to sing on the people who had hired. After all their struggles, it had taken less than a month before Charles Widmore's name started coming up in the news cycle with charges of conspiracy to commit murder. It would take months before Widmore saw the inside of a courtroom, but one thing was very certain: he was never going to bother anybody who had come back from the island.

As for Ben Linus, Tawaret Security had apprehended him less than thirty-six hours after he had managed to escape from Seattle Grace. Ilana had told Jack and his friends that he would no longer be a threat to them. A day later, Richard Alpert had shown up, and told them what Ben had done to Sarah Milton. Both Sayid and James had demanded that he be turned back over to them.

"You have every reason to be angry," Richard had begun.

"Angry don't begin to cover it, Tricky Dick," James had replied.

"It's very clear your form of justice has failed," Sayid had agreed.

"And you think yours would?" Richard had countered. "I'll admit my people put you through a lot over the three months you were on the island, and I don't expect you to forgive us or even believe us, but you do know that there is no place in your world for Ben either. Besides, if he stays here, do you really want to spend the rest of your lives looking over your shoulders?

There had been a long moment when the unspoken threat floated in the air. The men who wanted more than anything to see Ben Linus dead honestly wondered if that was on the table. Then Juliet's silent plea passed through their minds. So had the thoughts of every person who had died already.

Ultimately, they had left the decision to Penny, who understandably had more at stake, even though she was even more emotionally wrought than they were. "I found the island once before," she finally said. "If anything else happens to my family or theirs, I'll find it again, no matter where you try to put it. Do I need to make things any clearer?"

Richard didn't need to hear any more. She was her father's daughter, after all. None of them knew what was going to happen to the man who had caused them so much misery, and the thing was, none of them cared much either.

"Everyone else who experienced what we went through will say that they knew Jack and Kate were going to end up together," Sayid said. "Not me, however. I was concerned with more trivial things like getting us rescued."

There was genuine laughter from everybody now.

"In all seriousness, though, as someone who had to spend so long looking for the love of his life," Sayid turned a longing look at Nadia, "I can understand what these two have gone through. And I can assure you that after pain and misery, there does come joy. And happiness than you can barely express. So Jack, if I may quote you one more time, we can rest assured that you stand no chance of dying alone. And Kate, instead of having to keeping running away, you finally have someone to come home too. And I'm sure that as I raise my glass to my friends, that we wish all them just a fraction of the happiness that we have managed to find. "

"Unca Sawyer!" Julian ran towards James.

James looked around to see Rachel smiling at him. "Are you ever going to tell him to stop calling me that?" he said to the woman who was practically his sister-in-law.

"Only when it stops being funny," Rachel said. "So, probably never. Where is Juliet? Please don't tell me you've lost her."

James gestured towards the center of the room, where Juliet was talking with Addison. "My guess is she's making another attempt to get her the patent her research again. Addison doesn't take no for an answer, but she's gonna have to at some point."

Six weeks ago, Addison had given birth to a healthy baby girl, who'd she christened Faith. Addison was ecstatic. Richard less so when he learned Addison was only going to be coming back part time. Juliet was a great doctor, but despite her association with the Oceanics, she still didn't have the name recognition that Addison had. Hence the desire for her to promote her research, which Juliet was standing firm about not wanting to write anything on. Seattle Grace couldn't understand. James could.

"The day care sections over back there," James gestured. "Hey Julian, Charlie's there."

"Yea! Can I pay with my fends? Please?"

Rachel turned mock serious. "Oh, all right. But only if Aaron and Ji Yeon say it's okay."

James smiled again, as Julian ran off.

"You're really good with him."

He turned around to see Stevens and Karev, as he still thought of them, looking at them.

"Never thought I would be," he admitted. "Never did well around kids before."

"You mind if I ask a silly question?" Stevens asked.

"Depends how silly," James admitted.

"We're kind of trying to figure out why you're not Jack's best man instead of Sayid," Alex told him.

James raised an eyebrow. "Doc _has_ been telling you what happened on the island," he asked rhetorically. Jack had pretty much finished telling about their time up until the final days on the island. "Then I'd think you'd have it figured out by now."

"Yeah, but you're with Juliet now," Izzie reminded him.

James frowned. "There such a thing as a love rectangle?"

"You're joking, right?" Alex asked.

"Yeah," Izzie said. 'First few months we were here, Meredith, Derek, Addison, and Sloan, that was pretty close to one."

"I may have dropped out of high school in the eleventh grade, but I know damn well that sometimes if you put two triangles together, you do get a rectangle," James pointed out. "Kinda what was going on between me, Freckles, the Doc, and Jules. First couple of months; it was me, Kate and Jack. She kept drifting between us for awhile, depending on how the mood struck her. Though it wasn't like here. I think the most she ever did was kiss both of us once."

"I still can't believe that's all that happened over that time," Karev said.

"Surviving a plane crash ain't the Blue Lagoon," James pointed out. "None of us were strutting around in bikinis" He got quiet. "Well, almost none of us." He shrugged it off. "Anyway, you know the Others basically kidnapped the three of us and Hugo. I never did figure out why they went to such trouble to grab him if all they were going to do was let him go. Even given who they were, that's cold."

"Where exactly did they keep you?" Stevens asked. "Jack's been kind of vague on that. Told us they held on another, smaller island, but didn't go into much more detail."

"Cages that were basically meant for polar bears," James told them. "They made us clear rocks for some kind of runway."

"A runway?" Karev asked.

"They were basically giving us busy work while they tried to figure a way to make Jack operate on Fearless Leader," James told them. "Kate was there to control the Doc. And I was there to control Kate. Fun fact? First time I met Jules, she was holding a gun to Kate's head."

Izzie and Alex both gawked at this – apparently Jack had sat on that particular piece of information. "Did she mean it?" Alex asked.

"I'm a pretty good judge of soldiers, and I think she would've fired without a second thought," He looked at Juliet. "They've patched things up considerably since then, but that's one reason Kate had trouble asking her to be a bridesmaid."

"Well, that explains part of it," Izzie admitted.

"That's not the whole story." James told them. "One of them – Pickett, his name was – his wife was killed a couple of days her later. He decided that it was eye for an eye time, and I was the one who was going to get poked out. Kate started to despair, and we ended up, doing the wild thing in my cage."

James found it very odd that, given all his years as a womanizing con, he actually felt ashamed of what he'd done. "Would it make you feel better if I tell that may be the weirdest place of I've ever heard of a hookup?" Alex said.

"I'd actually consider it a compliment, considering the company," James told them. "Do you mind if I skip ahead a bit?"

"It's okay," Izzie said. "We basically know what happened next."

"After Kate went back for him, Jack insisted, despite everything that happened, that Juliet was coming with them back to camp," James told them. "This decision went over about as well as Han deciding to trust Lando. And I practically helped stir up the lynch mob. None of us trusted Juliet, except the Doc, so then, we started having trouble trusting the Doc."

"From what he told us, you had every right not to," Alex pointed out.

"What everybody was thinking was that while Jack was spending his week in New Otherton, he had somehow starting hooking up with Juliet," James pointed out. "Freckles, who'd been at the center of one triangle for the past couple of months, now found herself on the outside looking in. Her reaction was to start hooking up with me. I didn't exactly object. Might have gotten more complicated, but that's around the time, Penny and her rescue ship showed up on the horizon. I'll let the Doc fill you in on the rest."

"You know, it's really weird to say this, but your island in terms of romance kind of sounds like the opposite of Seattle Grace, "Izzie told him. "Here, everybody's interested in getting laid with as little commitment or love as possible, and on your island, pretty much seems like it was the other way around."

"It's definitely gonna make a lot weird stories to their grandchildren," James admitted. "Anyway, I think you get it now. Me being the Doc's best man would be like Addison being Mer's maid of honor. It's theoretically possible, but it would be frigging weird for everybody concerned."

Izzie and Alex both nodded at this.

"But you're right about this damn crash bringing people together. We just literally had to get there by way of Australia," James told them. "Took Sayid eight years of searching to find Nadia, and she wouldn't have known he was alive if we hadn't come back. Des," he turned to them, "Doc told you about that saga, and it is one."

They both nodded. "Jin and Sun only started talking to each other, cause he couldn't talk to anyone else. Hell, she was gonna leave him at the airport. They're going to renew their vows on their seventh anniversary."

'And Freckles and the Doc," James shook his head. "That took a plane crash, her going fugitive, prison, and more guns pointed at them then I can count. Now look at them. I don't think I ever saw the Doc smile that much until he knew he was never gonna lose her. And I never thought I'd be cheering him on." He looked at them. "I hope this part gives you some courage."

Izzie and Alex looked at each other a little sheepishly. Izzie had thrown so much of her attention ever since she had gone into remission into planning Meredith and Derek's wedding that very few people had even dared to suggest the two of them might want to work on their own. Understandably, Richard had allowed both of them to take leave from their residency because of extreme circumstances. Derek had allowed the two of them to move into his trailer – by now, he was living at Meredith's – but neither had been willing to make any progress on pulling the trigger on their own marriage.

"It's just that the last year has been so difficult," Izzie finally said.

"You're not going to win the 'oh, poor us' contest when talking to any of the other people at this rehearsal," James reminded them. "If there's one thing I've the least few years – and I ain't the sharpest knife in the bunch - it's that, anything that can go wrong will if you wait too long. "

Alex looked at him. "What about you? You going to make Juliet an honest woman?"

James walked over to them. "Soon as the Doc and Freckles get back from their honeymoon, I'll pop the question," he said quietly. "Now, I'm countin' on you to keep this quiet. And for the love of God, don't let Hugo find out. Otherwise, _everyone_ will know before she does."

"One condition," Izzie said. "When your book finally gets published, Alex and I get the first copies."

"Sure thing."

Kate's first marriage had taken place in a church. Jack's had taken place in a gazebo. Though both of them were infinitely more certain that this wedding was bound to go much better then their previous unions, both of them had been through so much just to get here that neither had been particularly willing to return to scene of the crime. (Pun definitely not intended in Kate's case). There had been a reason both had wanted just to go to City Hall.

So they had compromised and decided to have it outside Hurley's mansion. Hurley had been more than willing to come up with a priest (he had to fight his Ma tooth and nail to keep her from calling for hers), and arranged for the setting to be outdoors. Jack had gone against tradition, and had decided to pay for the entire wedding. "I let the bride's family pay for my last one, and that didn't end up going to well," he told Hurley. He had, however, been more willing to let Hurley and Sayid handle most of the supervisory jobs.

Claire had been more than willing to serve as Kate's maid of honor - even if Jack hadn't been her big brother, she and Kate had had one of the deepest friendships on the island, and in a way her absence had been the hardest on anyone other than Jack. Juliet and Sun had made up the rest of her bridesmaids, and by now Aaron was old enough that they all trusted him to be the ring bearer. Ji Yeon was going to be the flower girl.

There had been some question as to who was going to give the bride away, which had been answered when Sergeant Sam Austen had returned from Afghanistan to come back to the states.

Only Jack and Claire knew what the full story was involving Sam and Kate. A week after being released from prison, she had finally confided the real reason why she had murdered Wayne Janssen, the crime that had set on her the long and winding path that path that had eventually led to being on the island. It was a painful story, and Kate had been in tears by the time it was over – a big thing, because she almost never cried.

If Jack hadn't had so many issues with his own father, he might have been more inclined to be hostile. Claire, who'd had just as many reasons as Jack had to be angry at Christian was, as was her want, more understanding.

"Why are you so angry at him?" she finally asked the day before. "Because you think he made you kill Wayne, or because you're still pissed that he didn't take you with him when he left?"

"Both," Kate had admitted. "I could understand why _she_ didn't come to see me, but I never understood why he didn't try to reach out to me until after my trial."

"Maybe he just felt guilty," Jack told her. "He must have felt like if he'd done more for you, none of this would've happened."

"I just don't why he didn't make more of an effort, " Kate had said. "You guys came to see me in prison far more than he ever did."

Jack though for a moment. "One of the few really good memories I have of my father was the day before my first marriage. He gave me a watch, and told me a story about my grandfather. Now, I got along better with Ray than I did with my dad, but this story kind of reset my thinking. He told me the day before his wedding to my mother, Ray came to him, and gave him a watch that he'd gotten before he'd gotten married. It was the only wedding present Ray ever gave him, mainly because he thought he was making a mistake marrying my mother. That's why I never saw my dad wear it. Then he gave it to me, and he told me that he thought I should have it because I _was_ making the right choice." Jack knew what his sister and fiancée must have been thinking. "He didn't have a better grasp of the future than I did. What makes me glad he gave me the watch is because afterwards he told me that if I ever had a son, to be a better father than he'd ever been."

Kate and Claire knew just how difficult that must have been for Christian to admit.

"The point is, Sam is making more of an effort, just like my father did on that day. Our father is gone now," he said, indicating Claire. "But yours is still here. And I think you owe to yourself to let him back in."

Kate took this in for a moment. "Were you wearing that watch when our plane went down?" she asked.

"No," Jack admitted. "I stuck it in a drawer when my first marriage went down in flames. But I'm going to put it back on, so I have it to remember him by at our wedding."

Claire then hesitated. "I wanted to discuss this with you at a better time, but I figured you might as well know now. When we get an opportunity, I want you and Jack to me Aaron's godparents."

Kate swallowed for a moment. "Your mother's okay with this?"

"She understands," Claire assured her. "Considering all the chaos that has made a mess of our lives, she feels that it's only right that someone in our family be there just in case. Besides, you helped me give birth to him"

Kate nodded. "Just promise me that you'll return the favor."

Jack was a little stunned at this. He'd been thinking about having children more and more, but he hadn't known Kate was thinking the same way. "Are you sure you're ready?"

"No, but I will be soon enough," she assured him.

Hurley returned to Callie with a mixed drink in his hand. "I hope I got this right. Even when I partied, I never drank much heavier than light beer."

Callie took a sip. "It's fine. Besides, ever since the bender in Derek's trailer, I've really been trying to cut down."

Hurley looked around nervously. "Hugo, calm down. Nothing's going to go wrong. Everything's turned out fine."

Even he had to admit that Callie was right. The food was all perfect, including the cake. With Izzie's help he'd managed to find a fairly decent string quartet for the band. He had gotten the DJ for the reception. And according to Claire and Sayid , everything looked fine on the bride and groom's side, respectively. Nevertheless, Hurley thought he might be even more nervous than the married couple, if such a thing were possible.

"You're not thinking your luck is going to wreck everything?" Callie admonished him. "Damn it, Hurley. I thought you were past this by now."

The thing was, Hurley _was_ past this. The entire effort to bring down Charles Widmore had ended with none of his friends getting hurt. Even Penny seemed to be dealing rather well with the fact that her father was probably going to spend the rest of his life in prison. She had taken over the reigns of her father's empire, and had announced that she was divesting the Widmore corporation of all of its illegal holdings. In a lesser move, she had also handed over to Mittelos Bioscience everything her father had ever acquired regarding the Black Rock and anything else that might have some connection to the island. She, Desmond and Charlie were taking up residence in London, but had made it very clear how grateful they were to everybody who had made this possible. The trip to the wedding was the fifth time they'd come for a visit since everything had become safe.

Michael had come home to Walt a few days after the crisis involving Widmore had been resolved. There had been some initial awkwardness between him and Hurley, despite everything that he had said, but he had finally managed to forgive Michael for what he had done. He had, however, been very circumspect when it came to telling Teresa Cortez that he was back, and he was going to do everything in his power to make sure they never met. They might be able to forgive Michael, but he was relatively sure that if she learned about his involvement, Teresa would be nearly as brutal as her daughter was in dispensing justice.

And things between him and Callie were going remarkably fine as well. Despite the fact that it had been, for the first few months, a long distance relationship, both of them seemed willing to make more of an effort. Hurley had basically told Callie everything that had happened on the island, as well as giving her some of the details as to what had gone on between Widmore and Ben in the aftermath. Callie had handled it nearly as well as Karev and Stevens had handled Jack's retelling of the events, which led to a very odd series of bonding between Callie and Izzie. Then again, apparently nearly dying of skin cancer trumped ruining your marriage – just barely.

And it helped matters that George was now too busy to really be having a relationship with anybody. He had taken over Izzie's job as the chief resident running the clinic, he had just signed up for a trauma fellowship with Dr. Hunt (Hurley still considered that something along the lines of the blind leading the blind), and he was still working in connection with the rehab stint in LA every few weeks. The general consensus was that he was the front runner to be chief resident, which actually pleased Jack, as he thought he was the only one of the group who might actually make a real doctor.

"Nope," Hurley said cheerfully. "Being here, surrounded by all my friends and the people I love, I'm beginning to think whatever curse I had is long gone. It's just" he shrunk a little, "when it was there, it never hurt _me._ And considering how much Kate and Jack have been through, I wouldn't be shocked if someone actually stood up during the part where they say, you know, speak now or forever hold your peace."

"I've been to a couple of crappy weddings the past few years," Callie reminded him, "Hell, one of them was my own. Maybe if someone had objected… I'm not exactly being the comforting girlfriend right now, am I?"

"No, but that's not exactly what made me fall in love with you in the first place," Hurley reminded her, taking her hand.

"Hell, you're the only man I brought to meet my dad who passed his test."

"It helped that I wasn't after your money," Hurley told her. "Incidentally, I found a place that was willing to rent me a room not far away."

The relationship had been going so well for them that he'd decided to try and find an apartment in Seattle where he could be closer to Callie and the rest of his friends. He'd been a little upset about moving out of his Ma's place, but she was all for it. "After all you've been through, who am I to object if you want to live in sin for awhile?" she had told him.

"Where is this place?" Callie asked.

"Oh, a small two bathroom, two bedroom on Hedwig Street." Callie looked at him. "All right, it's the penthouse of that condo."

"Hurley, you've been through a lot in your life," Callie gently prodded him. "And you've barely spent any of that money on yourself. It's okay if you want to live in a nice place."

"I know," Hurley admitted. "I just didn't like the idea of all this money changing me even before I got it. Hell, that's why I was flying coach in the first place on 815."

"Hurley, half the people at the hospital are rich doctors who want money and power. You may be the only person I know where one can really say money didn't change them." Callie looked at him. "That's why everybody loves you."

Hurley put his arm around Callie. "You know something, I never thought I'd say this. I am the luckiest guy alive."

The wedding went off without a hitch. Even the ultra-cynical Meredith Grey had to admit that there was something truly adorable about watching Aaron walk down the aisle, hand the ring to Sayid, and then throw his arms around Kate.

After the couple had exchanged rings, but before the minister finished the ceremony, he turned to the assembled and said: "The couple didn't write their own vows for this ceremony – the groom was very specific about that – but both of them said that they each had something that they wanted to say for themselves and for the assembled guests."

Kate went first. "As far back as I can remember, all I ever wanted to do was run away. There were a lot of problems in my life – I won't go into them – but rather than try and face them, I kept running. I ran to Florida. I ran to New Mexico. I ran to Australia. And even after we crashed on that stupid island, when it seemed I had nothing to look forward to but a pair of handcuffs, I just kept trying to leave. I even did it after I came back to civilization. You'd think I'd have known better by then." This did get some laughs.

"A couple of days ago, I had a conversation with Mr. Desmond Hume. Now despite the fact he saved my life, the two of us never really talked that much on the island or off. And honestly, I was a little surprised by how much we had in common. He ran away from a six year relationship to become a monk." There was more genuine laughter. "He walked away from the love of his life because he didn't feel he was good enough for her. I won't bore you with the rest of the story because we all know it, but he did once tell me that he had to learn to run _towards_ something rather than away from it. And now I realize that's what I've been doing. It took a long time, and there were way too many detours. I've finally found something worth staying for. And Jack, along with all the other oaths that I've made, I promise that I will never run anywhere without you."

Jack took a deep breath. "As practically everyone here knows, all I'd tried to do for as long as I can remember is fix things. People said that I was good at it, and I guess I thought I was, but I didn't realize that the thing that was truly broken was me." He looked to everybody. "When I think back to what we all went through, those of us who survived and even those who didn't, was that most of us were all like that. We were all damaged in some way that had nothing to do with surviving a plane crash."

He looked around for a man they all were thinking of. "Locke said that all of this was happening for a reason. And in a sense, he was right. Not about the island, but maybe about why we were all there. We all needed each other. I'm sad that it had to happen the way it did – I think that's one thing we can all agree on – but for all the trials and tribulations that we had to go through, I'm at glad that you're all here."

He turned to Kate. "I'm not going to say anything as clichéd as you fixed me. But you are what I have been looking for. And knowing that we will spend the rest of our lives together, I feel whole. From now on, fixing things will just be a job, not my life. And I will no longer be alone."

"By the power vested in me, by the state of California, I now pronounce you husband and wife."

Jack lifted the veil, and kissed the once and future Mrs. Jack Shephard.

A couple of hours later, as the dancing was starting to wind down, Sayid walked over to Juliet and James who had just finished boogying on the dance floor.

"You did a hell of a job, Sayid," James told him.

"Just don't ask me to repeat it. I think my wedding had less stress involved," Sayid said.

"As I recall, you and Nadia practically eloped," James gently reminded him. "Now considering she's practically part of the family…"

"Funny you should mention that," Sayid turned to Juliet. "Nadia's pregnant."

Juliet embraced Sayid – something that would've seemed absolutely unthinkable three years ago, almost as much as James shaking his hand, and slapping him on the back.

"This part of you spreading the word, or more of a medical consult," Juliet asked.

"I didn't want to take the spotlight away from Jack and Kate on their big day," Sayid said quietly, barely able to suppress a foolish grin. "That's why I went to you two first instead of Hurley."

"Probably a smart decision," James admitted dryly.

"I have no doubt that there are more than capable people in Los Angeles," Sayid went on. "But Nadia said – and I agree with her – that we'd both feel more comfortable if you served as our OB."

"Am I going to have to do this for everybody?" Juliet said in that endearing sarcastic way of hers.

"No. Just people who you meet on desert islands who threaten to torture you before they get to know you." Sayid was developing a sense of humor of his own for their experience, which for him was incredible.

"You know, she could've told us this herself." Juliet said. "Despite my appearance, I'm not that intimidating."

"I may have shared far too many opinions," Sayid said a little sheepishly. "She's also a little embarrassed. She still has scars from… her time as prisoner." He didn't have to tell them that he'd help give some of them to her. They knew it was one of his deepest shames, and he had far more than most of them.

"I'm a doctor. And I saw far worse even before we met," she told him gently

Sayid nodded.

"That the only reason you came here, Hoss" James asked.

"My father was a horrible human being," Sayid told them. "And as hard as I've tried, I haven't been much better."

"Join the frigging club, man" James said. "My opinion may not count for much, but you're one of the best men I've ever known. Time you started believing it."

Jin and Sun had taken a break from the dancing to help Ji Yeon get into more comfortable clothes so she could play with the kids.

Claire had just shown up with Aaron in tow. The minute Aaron saw his friend, he practically started running the rest of the way. "Hi, Auntie Sun! Hi, Uncle Jin!"

Both knelt down to say hello to their nephew. "Hi Aaron," Jin said. "I know someone who wants to play with you."

As Aaron and Ji Yeon started playing together, Sun shook her head. "They look so happy together."

"They do."

There was something in Claire's voice that Sun hadn't heard in awhile. "Are you okay, Claire?"

"It's odd," she admitted. "Sometimes I just miss him so much."

"Charlie?"

"It's odd. I only knew him for three months. He's been gone for three years. Sometimes I forget I even knew him. And then, there are days like today…" Claire trailed off.

Sun looked at her friend. "Is that why you haven't even tried to date somebody since we came back?"

"It's not easy being a single parent, even if you are one of the most famous in the world," Claire replied. "I mean, I have a full life. I have Aaron, and Jack, and everybody else.

"He'd want you to find happiness." Sun gently stated. "I don't think he'd have wanted to know that he got you off one island to put yourself on one metaphorically."

"I know," Claire told her. "It's just memories. They're all we've got."

"No," Sun told her. "We have so much more than that. We have the ability to make new ones. We've all had so many horrible ones before. Now we get to write our own story. I'm sure Charlie would've wanted that, too."

Claire look at her son playing with Ji Yeon. She remembered Charlie setting up a picnic for her, telling her to seize the day. Maybe she could find a way to do just that.

Jack and Kate were sitting at the table, still in the process of receiving guests, when Meredith and Derek walked up to their table.

"Ah, it's the other couple I've heard so much about," Kate said quietly.

"Well, I have to say your love story will probably be a lot simpler to tell your children," Meredith admitted.

"Did Jack mention the first time we met, he asked _me_ to sew him up?" Kate said wryly.

The two of them looked at each other. "You do know the two of us have only heard bits and pieces of this island adventure?" Derek asked.

"I may have told Kate more details of your story than I have of ours," Jack admitted.

"Incidentally, I met someone inside who might be interested in turning the adventure of Seattle Grace into a TV series," Kate joked. "How do you feel about the working title _Paging Dr. Sexy?"_

"Only if we get the rights to sell _your_ story," Meredith countered. "Turnabout is fair play."

"Well played," Jack said. "Does this give you any inspiration for how to handle your own wedding?"

Derek and Meredith exchanged another glance. "We're working on the details," Derek admitted.

"We've already written our vows." Meredith added.

"But Stevens has kind of turned it into a three-ringed circus," Derek admitted. "We were actually hoping for some advice."

"Don't go to Sydney on your honeymoon," Jack said quickly.

"In fact, try to avoid airplanes altogether," Kate told them.

"Always listen to what your partner has to say,"

"And then do what you feel you have to."

"Tell each other everything."

"Never hold a grudge."

"Don't let any obstacle stand in your way."

"No matter how attractive they may seem."

"And tell your friends what you think."

"Make sure you have friends in the first place."

"Never let your work become your life."

"And don't let the past become an anchor."

"Does that help?" they both said at the same time.

"That _was_ helpful," Meredith told them. "And a little scary."

"Someone has to learn from our experience." Kate said.

Meredith and Derek walked off. "Do you think they paid attention?" she asked as they left.

"Those two have known each other for two and a half years. They still barely listen to each other." Jack told them. "Hopefully, though, there's been enough going on the past couple of years to make them think a little."

"I could always follow through on my threat," Kate said. "Maybe having their story shown on national television would embarrass them into changing."

"Somehow, I think they're immune to shaming," Jack said honestly. "Anyway, enough of the story of McDreamy and the resident. I think it's time we went on to write our own story, don't you?"

Kate gave one of those full smiles she rarely got a chance to give. "May I have the first dance?"

And as they walked out to their first dance as man and wife, Jack felt, as he was among his friends and family, that they could once and forever leave the island in the past, and focus on looking forward. He wasn't naïve enough to think that things would be perfect from now on, but he knew enough to know that whatever happened, he would never be alone again.

 **Postscript**

 **BOULDER, COLORADO**

Benjamin Linus was not the kind of man who would ever admit that he was nervous or afraid. Considering that he'd spent the first half of his life basically afraid of his father, then the second half afraid that he would be exposed as a charlatan, he'd done a lot of work basically convincing the people on the island that he had no emotions.. He was an accomplished liar, so it had worked for him.

But now, as he stood outside this perfectly conventional home, he had to admit to himself that he was terrified. Not of some horrible monster that moved among the jungle tearing up trees, not of losing his power – he was afraid that what he was going to find would, like everyone else he'd ever known or tried to love, would reject him.

He'd gone to the Lamp Post a few days ago to talk with Eloise, who'd been his last hope of ever going back. She'd been just as cold and imperious as she'd been when he'd first met thirty years ago, and told him bluntly that the window was closed, and the next one wouldn't open for several months.

He'd been about to leave when she stopped him. "That's not what you're really looking for, is it?"

"Considering that I've lost everything I've ever had, I have no idea what you mean Eloise," he'd said.

"Not everything, Benjamin." A look of what seemed to be a mixture of pity and regret appeared on her face. "We've all made sacrifices for the island, and we usually get so little in return. In your case, though, I believe an exception can be made."

She reached into her cloak and pulled out a slip of paper. "When did it all start going wrong? When you joined us or when she left? You didn't have much of a choice in the former, but she had none. If she had stayed, there's an excellent chance she would've died."

An emotion in Ben's heart – something that the people he'd spent months tormenting

wouldn't have believed he had – began to flicker.

"She moved to Denver in 1980. She got a master's degree in European History at the University of Colorado. She's teaching at a private school in Boulder, most high school sophomores. She's never gotten married, she's never had any real relationships."

Ben turned the paper over. A simple address was there.

"That's what you've been trying to find all those years. That's what you've truly lost."

So he'd been sitting outside her house for more than half an hour, trying to work up the nerve to knock on her door. How Jarrah and Ford would have smirked to see the monstrous Ben Linus terrified of simply trying to reintroduce himself to a girl.

But that was a lifetime ago. He'd been a different person then. He'd assumed that person had died the day of the Purge, if not before. For years afterwards, he'd wondered would he have been so swift to slaughter the Dharma Initiative if she'd still been there.

He'd hurt so many people, in the name of the island. And the island had rejected him. Maybe that's what he was afraid of it. Everyone else had cast him aside. Why should she be any different?

But he needed to know.

Finally, he got out of the car and walked towards the door. The fifty feet had been more terrifying than it had been to face his father all those years.

He rang the doorbell. Silence. He rang it again. Still no answer. He was about to think no one was going to come when the door opened.

"I'm sorry, I've been…." She trailed off.

She was forty-three now, a woman, her blond hair streaked with gray, but he'd recognize that smile anywhere.

"Annie?" he said slowly.

There was a very long pause. Long enough for Ben to think that she was going to reject him too. "Ben?"

"I'm sorry to just show up your doorstep." The awkwardness that he'd spent a lifetime suppressing was back in a second. "I know that its been a long time, and that you've probably forgotten me…"

Annie wasn't there anymore. She'd gone back inside, but the door was still ajar. Once again, the man who'd always prided himself on having a plan didn't seem to have a clear course of action

And then, she was back. But not empty handed. "One for you, and one for me. That way, we'll never be apart."

There it was. The doll she had made for him on his tenth birthday. The paint had faded considerably after thirty years, but he'd have recognized it anywhere.

"When they evacuated all the women and children that day, they barely let us grab anything that couldn't fit in a suitcase." Annie told him. "I looked for you as long as I could, but my mother wouldn't let me leave your side. So I grabbed the doll. For the rest of my teenage years, she told me to forget the island and that we could never go back. I tried to move on, and in a way, I did. But I never forgot you, Ben."

For the first time in his adult life, Ben felt tears were coming to his eyes. And for the first time in a very long time, he felt worthy of someone. Not of some mystical island, or a benevolent, unseen deity, but of someone he'd loved, and who was capable of loving him.

"Come in, Ben," she said with that welcoming smile he'd never forgotten. "Tell me where you've been and what's happened to you."

"I-it's a long story," Ben said, in one of his famous understatements.

"We have time now," she told him.

"Yes," Ben almost whispered. "I guess we do."

And for the first time in a long time, he felt like he might be at home.

SANTA MONICA

Helen was feeling more like her old self, despite the fact she still needed a lot of physical therapy. In all honesty, the brain surgery hadn't rocked her as much as learning what had happened to John had.

Jack and the rest of the people who had survived the island experience had tried to pretty it up as best as they could, but it was pretty clear that John had made himself an island even before he had refused to come back. And truthfully, there was some part of her that felt guilty about it – maybe if she'd had the courage – no, the faith to stay with him, John wouldn't have felt the need to seek rebirth in a walkabout

"Miss Norwood, you have a visitor," her therapist told her.

"Did they give their name?" Helen asked.

"Just that he was an old friend."

And somehow, she knew. Even before John walked into the room.

It was strange. Even though she hadn't seen him in nearly a decade, she still felt a little averse to showing her true feelings.

"Hello, Helen." Apparently, John felt the same way too.

"What are you doing here, John?" She didn't know why she was acting so cold, but there was obviously still a lot of hurt there. "How did you even know where to find me?"

"A very good man told me that something had happened to you." John was clearly nervous.

"They get some kind of email on your mystical island?" She didn't know why she wanted to hurt him so badly.

"So you know." Some of John's façade began to break. "I guess they told you about it."

"They told me a lot of things, John." She melted a little. "Why didn't you come back with them?"

"I was afraid," John admitted. "Part of me was terrified that if I left, I wouldn't be able to walk any more. That what the island had given, it could as easily take away."

"So why'd you come back now?" she asked.

"The man I met on the island – the man who said he'd brought me there – told me that something had happened to someone I loved. He offered me a choice. I could stay on the island, learn all its secrets, and maybe someday become his successor. Or I could go back home, and be with you."

"That must have been a hard decision for you, John."

John started to fall apart. "It was the easiest decision I ever made. Helen, a decade ago, I made the biggest mistake of my life. I was weak, and for some reason I never understood, I chose my father over you. You were the only person who ever believed in me. Who thought that my potential hadn't been wasted. And I rejected you in favor of a con artist and a murderer. Even the moment he pushed me –"He couldn't finish the sentence. "Even after he did that, that still didn't hurt nearly as much as when you rejected me. It was worse, because I made the mistake. I thought that everything happened for a reason, but I could never see the reason that I did that. The moment I heard that you'd nearly died, I realized that everything that happened on that island was meaningless if I had to be alone for – forever."

There was a lot that John wasn't telling her. But that was nothing new. She knew more than enough from what Jack and the others had told her to know that for John, he had made a sacrifice far greater than the one she had asked him to make – and he hadn't even hesitated.

"It's going to take a lot," she said slowly. "And I'm not saying I can forgive you this quickly. But John – I understand. And I really want to try again."

John started crying. Something she had never seen him do before. "I love you, Helen, and I'll never leave you again. I promise. Everything will be all right, as long as we're together."

After everything that had happened, Helen still wasn't sure she could believe him. But maybe she'd have been more secure if she'd known John had never used the word together a single time when he was on the island.

There were a lot of problems in their future, but they both believed in something bigger than themselves.

Each other.

 **THE END**

 **Author's Note**

 _ **For my loyal readers: I plan for this to be my last piece in this particular saga. (Then again, I said the same thing after I finished Home is where the Heart Is, so…) But I really do think everybody's story has been told for good.**_

 _ **I didn't intend to involve the island so much, but really I just follow my muse sometimes. I hope I didn't screw up to bad.**_

 _ **I do intend to write more Lost fanfic someday, but when I do, it's actually going to happen on the island this time.**_

 _ **I want to thank all my loyal reviewers and readers, and I hope you share your love with this and my other fanfic. It's been a wild ride.**_


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